iSettle
by JadeSelena
Summary: Post-iOMG Seddie angst/romance *big surprise, right?* with Sam/Brad foil.  How far is Sam willing to go to keep her cover?
1. Chapter 1

**Before you freak out that I'm starting _another _story that'll take time away from iWYTBMF this one was actually written at the same time I wrote iRemember. I had two endings for iOMG, the first being Sam brushing the kiss off and this being the second one. This one is more involved and a lot longer but the chapters are shorter (this one in particular) and will be updated more quickly (I'll say every Saturday, maybe more often if people are enjoying it -hint hint). I'll only have to review it before posting so no need to kill me for getting distracted, k?**

**You can thank (or blame) the reader 'Lackadaisical Pajamas' for me posting, btw. They were stalking my iCarly stories and I felt bad that they ran out of stuff to read. To LP: fyi, this is not the story I was talking about in my pm. There's a future fic 2/3 finished called iThee Wed sitting on my desktop tempting me to finish it but I will not until one of my other WiPs are finished.**

**This story, like iRemember, picks up at the end of iOMG and goes from there.**

**ETA: Any resemblance to another story is purely coincidental, I promise. I don't think I've read iCarly fic since before iOMG even aired so if my story does resemble your story you have my apologies but it is in no way intentional.**

**STILL DON'T OWN THE SHOW OR THE CHARACTERS; I'LL PUT THEM BACK MOSTLY UNHARMED (AND MAYBE HAPPY), I SWEAR.**

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><p><em>Oh my God.<em> She was kissing him. _Sam_ was kissing him, _again_, and it was taking all of Freddie's brain power just to process that it was, in fact, happening. So much so that he was still deciding what to _do _about it when she solved his dilemma by pulling away. "I, uh…" Well, that was eloquent…

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Him looking like he was about to pass out (or throw up) was _not_ the response Sam had been going for… Despite the gargantuan lump in her throat she managed a mumbled, "_Sorry_."

"It's cool," he answered automatically, wondering what the heck had gotten into her lately. She may have felt like Sam and smelled like Sam but she most definitely was not _acting _like Sam, and if she didn't also _kiss_ like Sam he would swear Melanie had taken her place. Not that he remembered how Sam's lips felt or anything…

It's cool? Well, that was a glowing endorsement if she'd ever heard one… _Think, Puckett!_ "Jeez, I knew I was out of practice but I didn't think I was _that _bad. Way to boost a girl's confidence, Frederly…" Her tone was light despite all the effort it was taking not to cry in front of him.

Freddie blinked, completely lost. "Huh?" Maybe they needed to take her to a doctor. Or an exorcist…

And apparently she was so horrible she'd broken him, too. Good to know_._ "You said to show Brad how I felt… It's been a while so I figured I'd make a trial run." It probably would have gone over better if she'd been wearing a brown wig. _So stupid._

His brain finally stopped lagging and caught up to the conversation. "I meant with words, Sam! Not by _assaulting_ him!"

Sam's chest clenched with actual, _physical_ pain. "Yeah, well I'm not so good with the words," she admitted, shrugging nonchalantly while what was left of her heart broke into a gazillion pieces. "Judging by your reaction I should stick to using my mouth for eating…"

Too late Freddie realized how he'd made it sound. "I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it, Benson," she interrupted with a condescending pat on the cheek, not really needing to hear whatever lame excuse he'd come up with. She'd gotten the message _loud and clear_. "Thanks for being my guinea pig."

He didn't want to leave things like that – knew he'd probably hurt her feelings – but he had no idea what had _happened_ much less how to fix it. "Sam…"

"I'm gonna go find Brad and try my hand at the whole 'talking' thing." With a mocking flick of her wrist Sam made her way into the school, only mildly surprised to find Carly spying from the other side of the glass. "He's all yours," she motioned before escaping down the hallway.

How could she just walk away knowing Carly had seen what she'd seen? "_Sam!_"

"Gotta go!" Sam called over her shoulder. "Things to steal, people to torment!" A janitor's closet to hide in until she pulled her chiz together…

Carly watched her best friend disappear, brow furrowed in confusion, before joining Freddie in the courtyard and smacking his arm. "You were supposed to get her to ask Brad out, not _make out_!"

"I _did_," he confirmed without taking his eyes from the dark sky. "Apparently the kiss was a refresher course or something…" Professor Benson, _Kissing 201_. He felt so _used_.

What was _with_ those two and the random kissing? She couldn't help but sound a little perplexed when she reiterated, "So she _is_ going to ask him out…"

Freddie finally met her gaze, shrugging, "She said she would." Whether she actually _did_ or not remained to be seen.

_Oh._ Carly wouldn't argue with the results. "Good job, Freddie; that's awesome."

He may have gotten Sam to ask Brad out but the 'good job' label was definitely up for debate. "Yeah – _awesome_."

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><p><strong>Questions? Comments?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised...**

**Couple of notes:**

**-I reread the story, realized there was no Franklin, and that made me sad :(**

**-I've taken some liberties with the Sam/Freddie relationship; nothing that goes against canon (I don't think), just some fleshing out**

**Enjoy :)**

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><p>When Freddie and Carly entered the teachers' lounge a half-hour later (she'd insisted on giving them 'time') Sam and Brad were speaking in hushed tones over the laptop, presumably so the other kids in the room couldn't hear.<p>

Carly grabbed Freddie's arm to stop him before they were noticed. "_Aw! They're so cute together_!" she hissed quietly.

_Huh_? They were just standing next to each other – Freddie failed to see what was so 'cute' about it. "_If you say so_," he hissed back mockingly.

_Ugh_. Boys were so unromantic. Elbowing him in the side she called out, "Hi!"

Sam stopped talking mid-sentence and Brad watched as her face went from agitated to completely blank in seconds. _Whoa._

Muttering '_show time_' under her breath Sam turned to nod at the newcomers. "Carls, Fredbag."

"Hey," Brad added, still looking at Sam curiously.

Carly wasted no time, sidling up to the blonde to loudly whisper, "Did you do it?"

Sam rolled her eyes at her best friend. "I just got here – give me a minute, will ya?" Carly was about as subtle as a bulldozer.

"Oh? Where were you then?" Freddie asked suspiciously, making his way to the computer.

Moving out of his way Sam easily lied, "I was talking to Franklin." She spent enough time in his office that it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

Freddie's eyes narrowed. "Why would you go see Franklin _now_?" Something wasn't adding up.

"None of your business, Benson…" She should have just told him that to begin with; she didn't owe him the time of day much less a detailed account of her whereabouts.

"It's my business if you're trying to take credit for our project," he bit off, her tone putting him on the defensive. If anyone had a right to be upset he'd say it was _him_.

"Guys…" Carly interjected with a nervous laugh. They were going to scare Brad away if they kept at it.

Sam wanted nothing to do with their God-forsaken project; she wished she'd never gotten involved with it in the first place. _No good deed goes unpunished... _"Speaking of projects," she said pointedly to the brunette, "shouldn't you be getting back to your own?"

Glad Sam hadn't continued the fight Carly shrugged innocently, "I've got time."

Of course she did. _Then let the games begin. _"So, Intern Boy…" Sam looked up at Brad with feigned nervousness. "I was thinking once we get paroled from this unofficial prison we could go get some breakfast."

"Sure."

_Intern Boy? Sure?_

Okay, that wasn't the way it was supposed to go. "Just the two of us…" Sam clarified with a wave of a hand between them.

Brad nodded. "I know."

Arching an eyebrow Sam tried to get the boy to take the hint. "I don't have a two-headed frog…"_ Just say 'no.'_

"That's okay," Brad soothed, giving her a charmed smile, "I think you're _way_ more impressive than a two-headed frog."

Carly had been celebrating silently but couldn't help the "_Aw!_" that escaped her lips. That was so sweet. If a little disturbing…

Freddie made a gagging sound and waited for Sam to laugh in Brad's face. She may have a thing for the boy but she wasn't one to go all 'floppy' for the first cheesy line…

And there went Sam's plan to forget today had ever happened; it had hinged on Brad saying no, and she couldn't back out now without arousing (more) suspicion. Pasting a pleased smile on her face she clapped her hands together. "Well, okay then."

"Yay!" Carly gave the blonde a hug, not caring that she barely returned it. Sam would forgive them for interfering when she and Brad fell madly in love, got married, and had vicious nerd babies.

"Happy?" Sam eyed Freddie over the brunette's shoulder.

Squeezing her tighter Carly sighed, "Very!"

"Good." At least someone was... She batted Carly away when she'd had enough.

Freddie gave Sam a teasing smile. "See what happens when you use your words?"

Sam's mask almost cracked but she was able to turn the grimace into a dazzling grin at the last second. "You were right – thanks, Nub." She'd even managed to sound grateful. Bully for her.

Suddenly Freddie didn't feel like being thanked. His smile faltered and he nodded tightly in return.

Carly silently patted herself on the back for a job well done before remembering she had another job to do. "I better get back before Gibby accidentally kills Spencer," she sighed, making her way to the door.

"I'm gonna go watch Gibby accidentally kill Spencer," Sam announced with affected eagerness. At the very least she could use the distraction. "You boys want me to bring you back anything?"

Brad contemplated giving her some cheesy follow-up line like 'Just you' but decided against it. He figured he'd already pushed his luck far enough for one night. "No, thanks."

"K." Winking, Sam promised, "I'll see _you _later." If she had to go through with this chiz she might as well milk it for all it was worth. Starting with a free breakfast.

Freddie didn't even get a chance to answer before the girls were gone, their laughter echoing down the hall. Turning to the computer he said, "You know, we wouldn't have fired you from _iCarly _if you'd said no." After a beat he revised, "Well, Sam might have tried…"

"What are you talking about?" Brad asked, genuinely confused.

"You don't have to pretend with me, man – I know Sam's not your typical girl." She wasn't your typical _anything_.

Brad shrugged and started fiddling with the camera. "I like that about her – she's not uptight and boring like most girls."

Freddie opened his mouth to defend Carly, then shut it when he realized Brad hadn't said anything about her. "Whatever. It's your choice."

The sharpness of his tone had Brad apologizing. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to step on any toes…"

"What? There's no toe-stepping," Freddie quickly denied. "Sam and I are barely friends on a good day."

_Right…_ Before the interview Brad had done his homework, perusing the website and catching up on older episodes. The way Sam and Freddie interacted, especially when they were alone, had made him think they had something going on. And then he'd met them and figured it was just something they did for the fans. Now he wasn't so sure. "Still… I should have checked with you first."

Freddie burst out laughing. Check with him? That was absurd. When he could breathe again he assured Brad, "Don't worry, _Intern Boy_ – you're doing me a favor: if she's focused on you she won't be making _my_ life miserable."

Brad didn't really buy it but he'd take it. "So we're cool?"

Why wouldn't they be? "Piece of advice? _No one _tells Sam what she can or can't do." Least of all him. If she found out they'd even had this conversation she'd probably kill them both on principle.

"Anything else?" Brad wasn't above asking for help – over the last couple of weeks he'd begun to realize that as well as he 'knew' _iCarly _Sam, real-life Sam was a very different creature. A lot darker somehow. It was intriguing but also a little daunting.

Freddie wasn't sure he wanted to hand over five years of hard-earned wisdom (or spend the whole night going over the intricacies of Sam's personality for Brad's benefit) but he didn't want to give the guy reason to think he was upset, either. "Yeah – just because she asked you out doesn't mean you're off the hook; you still have to plan it." Raising an eyebrow he supplied, "And pay." Poor guy didn't know what he'd signed himself up for.

"I don't mind paying…" Where to take her, though… he knew she'd eat just about anything but what she _preferred_ for breakfast was beyond him. A plateful of bacon? Green eggs and ham?

Telling himself he was just trying to help (it wasn't at all to prove how well he knew her) Freddie shared, "She likes the chocolate chip waffles at that little diner on the boardwalk. With whipped cream." At Brad's confused look he explained, "If you order for her, the right thing, your stock goes up. Your stock goes down if you order anything fruit for either of you." _Fruit is not a meal_ as she'd say.

"Thanks, man." For 'barely' friends he seemed to know her well enough but if Freddie said there was nothing going on then Brad wasn't going to let it bother him.

Freddie was checking the algorithm when he thought of something. "Do you have your license?"

Brad tilted his head curiously – Sam didn't strike him as the materialistic type. "Yeah, but I don't have a car…" His family had two but it was rare he had access to them.

"Doesn't matter – she'll have you drive her car so she can do all the criticizing and none of the work." Freddie didn't mind, really – her driving worried him. His mom may have taught them how but she still had _her_ mom's DNA.

"Seriously?" Brad knew he should probably find it off-putting but it just made her more fascinating.

Freddie nodded. "Oh, yeah. One time she made me take the bus to her house _just_ to drive her back to mine." His mom'd had the Prius that day so he couldn't pick her up; he'd been silly to suggest _she_ take the bus. "She swore she'd drive with her eyes closed if I didn't."

Brad couldn't help but smile at the quirkiness. "Definitely not like other girls…"

"No, she's not," Freddie agreed, forcing a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**I haven't gone to bed yet so technically it's still Saturday ;)**

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><p>Freddie woke up from his nap around four, still tired. He hadn't been able to sleep when they'd finally gotten home that morning, either because the sun was shining or because he kept waiting for Sam to call and yell at him for breakfast having gone horribly. It <em>had<em> to have gone horribly – her and Brad had next to nothing in common and there was only so long she could keep up the sweet girl act – and he fully expected her to (irrationally) blame _him_ for it. Except the call never came and he'd eventually drifted off despite the rays of light infiltrating his room…

Checking his phone he groaned when he saw a text from Carly telling him to go to the studio; they weren't supposed to meet up to plan the show until seven which meant she probably wanted to celebrate (_again_) a job well done… He went to the bathroom and washed up before reluctantly heading over to the Shay's apartment and letting himself in, surprised to find both girls lounging on beanbags in the center of the studio. Sam was mid-story – smile on her face and hands gesturing wildly – but fell silent as soon as he walked into the room. Immediately on the defensive he bit off, "What are you doing here?"

Sam suppressed the urge to throw her water bottle at his head and whispered to Carly, _sotto voce_, "_Someone_ woke up on the wrong side of his Galaxy Wars sheets…"

She'd teased him into throwing those away eons ago and she knew it. Heck, if it had been up to her she'd have burned them just to make sure they were really gone. And maybe recorded it to put on the website as the final humiliation…

"We're going to work on the show now instead of later," Carly interjected, hoping to head off a fight.

Freddie tore his glare away from Sam but pointed his thumb in her direction. "How did you get _her_ to agree to that?" She should still be snoring away in her _messy_ sheets…

"It was '_her_' idea," Sam informed him shortly. Seriously – maybe he needed to go back to bed before she helped him by knocking him unconscious…

Turning back to her he guessed, "Another hot date you have to get ready for?" It was the only explanation for her willingly doing _anything_ before she absolutely had to. Procrastination, thy name is Sam Puckett.

Sam raised an eyebrow, mouth open and ready to deliver a scathing retort, but Carly cut her off.

"She just _finished_ her date, actually…" Apparently lack of sleep was making everyone a little cranky…

Freddie finally noticed Sam was still wearing the same clothes. "You were with him _all_ day?" So much for breakfast having gone 'horribly.'

The confusion in his tone made it hard for Sam to stay mad, especially since at least some of it was probably residual from the night before. "I've been here for a bit; I knew if I went home I wouldn't leave again…" After yesterday's 'misunderstanding' all she wanted to do was curl up under the covers for a week, whether he suspected anything or not.

The non-answer had Freddie thinking it could be a lie. "Where's Brad then?" he inquired casually, pulling his own beanbag up and falling into it.

Hearing the thinly-veiled skepticism Sam had to will down her renewed anger. "I dropped him off; no need for both of us to suffer through this."

Except for the fact that it was, you know, his _job_…

Carly smiled knowingly at her best friend and leaned over to tug a blonde curl. "I think she just wanted to be able to gush about him…"

Sam rolled her eyes. 'Cause the last half-hour _wasn't _spent with the brunette prying for absolutely every detail.

If he had to listen to her 'gush' about their intern Freddie just might be 'gushing' up _his _breakfast, her shy interest in Brad somehow more disturbing than her exaggerated infatuation with Cort had been…

Seeing that the blonde wasn't going to elaborate Carly revealed, "After they ate they went walking on the boardwalk…"

"He doesn't need the play-by-play, Carls…" It wasn't that Sam was embarrassed by what that they'd (_she'd_) done, but awkward didn't even _begin_ to describe sitting there listening to her best friend tell her whatever the hell Freddie was about the date she'd only gone on because he'd so thoroughly rejected her.

"Uh, hello!" Carly knew Sam wasn't big on sharing but Freddie had a _right_ to hear it. "It wouldn't have happened at _all_ if it weren't for him…"

_Yeah_ – Sam was painfully aware…

Freddie refrained from pointing out he'd never _asked_ for the play-by-play, mostly because he couldn't decide whether or not he _wanted _it.

"Anyway…" Taking the blonde's lack of argument for permission Carly continued, "They spent the morning at the Market watching the Buskers and then they went to Gameworks for lunch…"

"Wow," Freddie marveled, "you managed to milk him for _two_ meals?" Poor guy – if they kept dating Brad was going to have to get a _real_ job.

Sam chafed a little at the comment but covered with a sly smile. "Better to break him in early, right?"

"Ooh, that's not the best part…" With a proud glance at the blonde Carly cooed, "She let him beat her at skee ball!"

Freddie had still been processing the implication that Sam was planning to keep Brad around; the new information had his brow furrowing. "You did?" She never let anyone beat her at _anything_, and it only proved she _still_ wasn't being herself with him.

She _hadn't_ actually, but after the hour-long 'talk' she'd gotten from Carly on how to behave Sam had decided to lie and save herself the lecture. Waving a dismissive hand she wryly observed, "With all the time you guys waste on video games you'd think you'd have better hand-eye coordination…"

"Don't say 'you guys,'" Freddie automatically defended. "I could actually win if you didn't always _cheat_."

_Aw…_ His sulky indignation almost made Sam feel guilty. "Hey – distracting someone and _still_ winning takes more talent than you're giving me credit for; imagine how much worse I'd beat you if I took the time to _aim_…"

"So what you're saying is you're doing me a _favor_ by making me mess up…" Freddie's tone dripped with sarcasm and disbelief.

"_Duh._ It's less embarrassing than me just standing there while you struggle to _catch_ up." Sam twisted the knife deeper with a shrugged, "At least I score _for_ you when you're really far behind…"

Freddie threw his arms up in frustration. "That's even more embarrassing!"

For _him_, yes; but for her it was infinitely more _entertaining_…

Predicting one of their endless back-and-forths Carly proposed, "Can we get back to Brad?"

_Can we not?_

"Actually, can we get _to _work?" Sam counter-offered. "I'd like to sleep sometime today…"

Carly sighed but nodded her agreement.

Tossing one last glare Sam's way Freddie settled in to finalize the plans for the next show. Either the date hadn't been as great as Carly made it out to be or being tired was making Sam more violent than usual because all her ideas were _off-the-wall_ crazy as opposed to her usual _moderately_ crazy; the _least_ crazy being shaving Gibby with a straight razor (she swore her grandfather had been a barber and taught her how) and Carly quickly vetoed them all. When they finally agreed on a wiener race – tying strings of sausage to Gibby's belt (poor Gibby) and seeing if he could get to safety before three hungry wiener dogs caught him – Freddie exhaled in relief.

"So…" Carly directed at the blonde with a dreamy grin, "you think your _boyfriend_ will be able to rustle us up everything we need?"

Knowing her best friend as well as she did Sam shook her head and held up a warning hand. "Stop it, Shay."

Carly batted her eyelashes in overdone innocence. "Stop what?"

"Picturing what your bridesmaid dress is going to look like…" No matter how many of the brunette's relationships ended badly she was the consummate romantic, and this was hard enough on Sam without Carly assuming it would lead to a happily ever after.

Freddie didn't need to see the twinkle in Carly's eye to know Sam was right; the brunette had a weird preoccupation with weddings in general and finding herself a husband in specific.

"I was _not_ picturing…" Carly trailed off mid-denial and her lips fell into a pout. "Wait, why am I a bridesmaid?"

Sam blinked, confused. "What are you on about?"

"You said 'bridesmaid dress,'" Carly explained with a huff. "Who's your maid of honor?"

_Seriously?_ The comment had been offhand, in no way a designation of role, but Sam wouldn't pass up the opportunity to deadpan, "Wendy, obviously…"

"_Sam_!"

Glancing between them Freddie had to snicker, Sam's face dead serious and Carly's the very picture of haughtily scandalized.

Sam forced a teasing smile. "You realize this wedding is only in your overly-obsessed imagination, right?" Even if she were going to go out with Brad again – which she'd yet to decide – talk of marriage was _severely_ premature. "We've only been on one date."

"One _six-hour_ date…" Carly smugly pointed out with a poke to the blonde's arm.

Rolling her eyes at her best friend Sam tried shaming her into letting it go. "It's sad that you're more invested in this than I am…" She knew Carly meant well but it was a little on the creepy side.

The way she'd been talking about Brad when they were alone said she _was_ invested, and Carly suspected she was only downplaying it in case he didn't feel the same. "Tomorrow Freddie'll talk to Brad and see how invested _he _is, then…"

Freddie's head swiveled back to the brunette. "I will?"

"Of course you will," Carly confirmed, hushing him with a wave of the hand.

_Huh? _He may have gotten suckered into Operation Get Them Together but he was pretty sure he'd never signed on for Operation _Keep_ Them Together…

"I don't need any more help, okay?" The _last_ thing Sam wanted was the boys comparing notes. "Now can we stop yapping and finish this?"

Freddie wholeheartedly seconded that motion. But as the girls started divvying up the skits to work on he just watched Sam, his brain stuck on the fact that she'd never actually _denied_ Brad was her boyfriend. If it were anyone else he could dismiss it as irrelevant – a mere oversight or the result of distraction – but with Sam what she _didn't_ say was usually more telling than what she _did_ say. And he couldn't help but feel this was one of those times…


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy Easter to those who celebrate it! Happy *insert day of the week here* to everyone else :)**

**Yes, I'm working on iWYTBMF - I finally figured out where I wanted to go with it (thanks to everyone for their suggestions) but the chapter is just refusing to come together the way I want it to. Hopefully it'll be up by tomorrow.**

**In the meantime I hope you enjoy this story! Thanks for reading and reviewing :)**

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><p>Freddie wandered into the Shay apartment to find Carly curled up on the couch with a magazine. "Sam not here yet?"<p>

_And hello to you, too. _Dropping the issue of _Persons_ in her lap Carly supplied, "No – she rescheduled rehearsal for tomorrow."

"Is she sick?" She'd seemed fine at school but he checked his phone anyway to see if he'd somehow missed a call; it wasn't like Sam to not share her suffering. Or maybe she just didn't need to share it with _him _anymore…

Carly shook her head. "Her and Brad went to a comic book signing at the mall. Some Stanley guy…"

"It's Stan _Lee_, formerly Stanley Lieber," Freddie amended automatically. Ignoring the annoyed look she shot him he fell into the chair. "How'd he manage that?" He wasn't bitter – it wasn't like he'd been trying to get Sam to go to a convention with him for years or anything.

"He promised to give her a manicure while they waited in line," Carly sighed romantically. They really were cute together, no matter what Freddie said.

Freddie glanced self-consciously down at his own hands. "Why didn't he ask me to go? I wouldn't have made him give me a manicure…" Though his chewed nails probably _could_ use the work.

Carly rolled her eyes. "'Cause unless there's something you're not telling me, he's not dating _you_." Shrugging, she added, "Besides, Sam likes comics."

"Sam likes manga," he corrected shortly; "There's a difference." If Brad didn't know that…

She didn't know what a manga was but she knew that tone. Cocking her head she put on an exaggerated pout. "_Aw_…is Fweddie jeawus?"

He faux-casually leaned back in the chair and scoffed, "Why would I be jealous?"

"Because Sam stole your nerd friend and now they're off doing nerd things without you…" she teased, poking him in the arm.

Freddie glared and swatted her away. "Comic books are geeky, not nerdy." It irritated the chiz out of him how they used the two interchangeably, though he suspected Sam did it on purpose for just that reason. "And we prefer to call them 'graphic mini-novels,' thank you very much."

"Well, _thank you very much_ for the tutorial," she mocked, "but that wasn't really a no." Of all Sam's habits to pick up he had to choose the 'side-stepping the issue' one.

"I'm not jealous." _Liar. _Last Monday he hadn't even had to ask Brad how 'invested' he was; when they'd gotten to school their intern was already leaning against the locker between the girls' chatting with Sam. And Freddie's first thought had been that the dude was in _his_ spot. "I just can't believe she cancelled rehearsal for comic books…"

Carly rolled her eyes again, not believing him for a second. "She _postponed _rehearsal to spend time with her boyfriend."

_Ugh_. They'd been dating for nine days and it was still disturbing to hear. "Still, I think you need to put your foot down."

"On what?" she asked with exaggerated confusion, then laughed at the dirty look he gave her. "Come on, Freddie – you can't be serious…"

Oh, but he was. As a pork shortage. "You need to tell them they can't date."

Carly could channel all the sarcasm in the world and it still wouldn't be enough: "Yeah – _that_ would go over well with Sam…" What was he thinking?

"I don't care." If she listened to anyone it would be Carly. Or Franklin, but he wouldn't get involved.

Not jealous _her butt_. "What's the big deal? Sam dealt with it when we dated."

Freddie shook his head. "That doesn't count."

Carly's eyebrow almost reached her hairline. "Oh, _really_?"

"It was like, two days," he rationalized, "and it never affected _iCarly. _Or Sam." It never had a chance to.

"And _their_ relationship isn't affecting _iCarly_." He was acting like Sam was dating Jonah again for God's sake. "If anything she actually shows up on time now." Thankfully Brad's work ethic was rubbing off on the blonde and not the other way around.

Freddie ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I think you're ignoring the problem, Carly." Just 'cause she was happy for Sam didn't mean it was a good thing.

"And I think you're getting your panties in a bunch over nothing," she countered. Softening her tone she promised, "It's one time. If it becomes a habit I'll say something, okay?" What was up with him lately?

Defeated, Freddie fell back in the chair. "It doesn't bother you that if it weren't for school and _iCarly_ we'd never see her?" Their last movie night had been boring without her snarky comments, and she'd missed spaghetti tacos twice already. She'd even had Carly fill in for her on the website extras, spending only enough time with them to rehearse and do the show.

Carly sighed – he obviously wasn't letting it go. "That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think? We went to the mall yesterday after school."

"We did?" It would appear he was suffering from dementia 'cause he could have sworn he'd been at a Mathletes meeting.

_Oh._ Well maybe not 'we.' "Um…on Saturday we went to see…" She trailed off when he shook his head. Right – he'd been at a 'Mommy and Me' thing with Mrs. Benson. "Well you know how Sam is when she gets a new boyfriend – it's like she has blinders on."

Freddie covered up his hurt with a raised eyebrow. "She has time for you…"

"I'm her best friend," Carly shrugged.

"And what am I?" This time he couldn't help but pout at the implication.

Carly narrowed her eyes and asked, faux-innocently, "Oh, I don't know – is today a _good_ day?"

Freddie's breath caught in his throat. She couldn't know…

The trapped look on his face confirmed it. "Next time you want to badmouth someone you probably shouldn't do it in a room full of people." Now that she thought about it Sam only suggested they do something when Freddie was conveniently busy.

_Oh God._ "Sam heard?"

"She hasn't said anything but if I heard about it you can bet she has." Sam didn't usually participate in the Ridgeway Rumor Mill but that didn't stop anyone from running to her with the latest gossip, anxious to get in her good graces. "You're lucky if _all_ she's doing is ignoring your existence…"

Freddie got up and started pacing. "I wasn't badmouthing her! I was…"

"So you didn't say Brad would only date her to stay in _iCarly_?" Carly interrupted, staring skeptically up at him. "Or that you were glad she'd be making _his_ life miserable instead?" She wanted him to tell her he hadn't, that the rumors were wrong. Like broken telephone…

He buried the guilt under righteous anger. "It's not like she hasn't said things a hundred times worse. And to my face!" He gestured to his face for emphasis, still pacing.

_Oh, Freddie. _"To your face," she repeated pointedly. "To tease you. Saying it behind her back, to the guy she likes no less, that's not teasing."

"I can't believe you're mad at me for this…" Why did Sam get a free pass on being a jerk-face?

Carly stood and stopped him with her hands on his shoulders, reassuring him, "If I were mad I'd have said something already." She'd given up on trying to change the way they treated each other; it was exhausting and they never listened anyway.

He met her eyes indignantly, knowing she wasn't done. "Then what?"

Throwing her hands in the air Carly huffed, "You can't say the things you said then get all hurt 'cause she doesn't want to spend time with you!"

Freddie swallowed hard. "She knows I didn't mean it…" That's just how they worked…

"Are you sure about that?" Carly wasn't. Not at all. "'Cause if it were me I'd be thinking you made it pretty clear how you felt that day."

Shaking his head he tried, "But Sam's _not_ you – she doesn't let what anyone thinks bother her." He'd lost count of the times she'd told him she didn't care what he thought.

"No – she doesn't let anyone _know_ it bothers her," Carly corrected, pulling him to sit on the couch beside her. "Remember when Gibby turned her down for the Girl's Choice Dance?"

Freddie wasn't sure where this was going but nodded anyway.

"Don't tell Sam but her mom called me the morning after the dance to find out what happened." When he just stared at her blankly she smacked his arm. "She _noticed_ Sam was upset, Freddie. _That's_ how bad it was." That had been before counseling, when Pam Puckett hadn't really paid attention to her daughter unless police were involved.

Huh? Freddie got the significance, just not the meaning. "So you're telling me Sam had a thing for Gibby?" He didn't even know _what _to take away from that.

Carly groaned and smacked him again. "I'm _telling you_ Sam has feelings, even if she likes to pretend she doesn't." Sam may have said she didn't want to go to the dance but Carly knew underneath the tough girl act she was truly lonely; it was part of the reason Carly'd been so determined to make the Brad thing happen.

Obviously Freddie knew Sam had feelings and he hadn't been trying to hurt them. "I was caught off guard, okay?" He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. "I didn't think she'd actually ask him and I didn't think he'd say yes."

She didn't understand – he sounded almost disappointed. "But that's what we were going for…"

Freddie wanted to tell her it was what _she'd _been going for; _he'd_ only gone along with it because he'd thought it was what Sam wanted. And then he'd thought it wasn't. And then he was just majorly confuzzled. Without opening his eyes he confessed, "When she kissed me I kinda thought it was me she was in love with…"

Carly couldn't blame him – the same thought had crossed her mind, as implausible and troubling as it was. "And your ego got all bruised?" she asked gently, putting a hand on his arm.

He wasn't sure a bruised ego could be blamed for wanting to rip them apart whenever he saw them or vomit at the thought of them being alone together. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore. "I guess."

The uncertainty in his voice made Carly tighten her grip until he looked at her, his expression crestfallen. Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God."

Freddie groaned. Cue the Drama Queen in 5, 4, 3, 2…

"Oh. My. God!" Carly jumped off the couch, feeling like the world had gone all topsy turvy. "This isn't about _iCarly, _is it? _Or_ losing your nerd friend…"

"Carly…" He tried to derail her pacing (and her train of thought) but ended up dodging a flailing limb instead.

"That's why you tried to talk him out of it, and overdid it on the 'friends' thing. And why you've been all mopey since they started dating!" All the pieces fell into place to form a disconcerting picture and she stopped in her tracks, spinning on him. "You want Sam for yourself!"

Freddie threw his arms up helplessly. "I don't know, okay?"

Shaking her head violently she shrieked, "No, it's not _okay_! You can't try to get me to break them up for you and then stand there and tell me you_ don't know_!" She pointed an accusing finger and dropped her voice to a hiss. "_I think you know darn well_!"

"Can you stop?" he begged, grabbing onto her shoulders. "This is hard enough without you freaking out!"

She would have continued 'freaking out' if it weren't for the near-panic in his voice. "Oh, _Freddie_," she sighed after taking a calming breath, "You never make things easy for yourself, do you?"

Freddie didn't appreciate the pity in her tone. "Things have never been _easy_ between me and Sam – why would that change now?"

She'd been talking about his tendency to fall for the wrong girl in general, not Sam specifically, but it gave her the opening she'd needed. "Exactly, Freddie – _why now_?" He'd never gotten all worked up about Sam's boyfriends before. Not for this reason, anyway. "What's changed?"

He would plead ignorance but he knew she wouldn't let it go. Falling back onto the couch he ran a hand through his hair. "It never occurred to me that she could have feelings for me before." Not seriously, anyway, and now that it had he couldn't stop thinking about it. Like potato salad...

Carly disregarded the pang of _whatever _she felt at his words and gingerly sat next to him. "But what if you're wrong?" She wouldn't say he was – who knew what went on in Sam's head most of the time? – but the blonde _was _dating someone else.

"You think I haven't thought of that?" Freddie hated how defensive he felt, how _threatened_. "I've been waiting for her to break up with him ever since that first breakfast, I was so sure she was just using him as a smokescreen." Once he'd had a chance to think it through he'd realized it didn't really make sense. Who the hell kissed someone randomly for practice, anyway?

"She's happy with him, Freddie." That was as gentle a let-down Carly could think of.

So she kept telling him. "It doesn't really matter how I feel then, does it?" He wasn't going to bother trying to figure it out when it wouldn't make a difference either way; it hurt enough as it was.

Carly could offer to talk to Sam, see how she felt, but that would just be starting trouble they could do without. That's what she told herself, anyway. "I'm sorry."

Freddie patted the hand she'd put on his arm. "Yeah – me too."


	5. Chapter 5

**A little present for being late with iWYTBMF :)**

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><p>"Hey, man. Can I talk to you a sec?"<p>

Freddie looked up from his locker to find Brad standing over him. "Sam break up with you for dragging her to see Stan Lee?" His tone was light but he was secretly hoping the reply would be a heartbroken affirmative.

Brad shook his head, grinning. "Nope – she got French tips _and _tons of feedback on the manga she's working on. There were some professional drawers there who were so charmed by her they invited us out with them afterwards." Not only was she still his (awesome) girlfriend, she was all happy and grateful, if tired. "Fair warning: we didn't get back to her house 'til two so she might be a little cranky…"

There was so much in those three sentences that made Freddie's head want to explode he didn't even know what bothered him the most. That Sam was _making _manga and he hadn't known? That a date he'd thought destined for failure had been _spectacularly_ successful? Or that it had gotten to the point where _he_ was being warned about Sam's mood? Suddenly Freddie felt like _he _was the outsider and it gutted him. "You sure you don't want to quit _iCarly _to pursue a career as an aesthetician?" _Please? _Shutting his locker with a loud _clang! _he straightened to give Brad a wry eyebrow_. _"Very manly, by the way."

'Cause he was one to talk, what with the knitting and such... "I have three older sisters," Brad shrugged. He'd hated growing up in a house full of women but had to admit it had been good training.

_Ugh_. The boy couldn't even take an insult to heart; maybe he _was_ perfect for Sam. "So what _did_ you want to talk about then?"

Pulling Freddie away from prying ears Brad admitted, "I need some advice."

_More advice? _Freddie brushed him off as soon as he could without making his irritation obvious. "Sounds like you're doing pretty well on your own…" And he didn't really feel like making their relationship _better_.

"Yeah – things are great. It's just…" Brad lowered his voice to a whisper, "Sam's had other boyfriends, right?"

None that Freddie particularly cared to remember, especially not Pete and the whole 'Samantha' debacle. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Why?" If Brad had tried to pressure her into something…

"Never mind – I'll talk to Carly." At the very least Carly wouldn't look like she wanted to kill him with her bare hands…

_Know thine enemy_, Freddie reminded himself. Taking a less threatening stance he encouraged, "It's okay; you can talk to me." _I won't use it against you. Promise._

Freddie's advice the day of the Lock-In had been invaluable but Brad couldn't help but sense that something had changed. Still, he didn't think he could talk to Carly about it. "You said she's not big on being touched, right?" _Prepare to lose a limb if you touch her when she doesn't want to be touched_ had been his exact words, with a tacked on, _which is almost always._

In hindsight that one might have been more to save Freddie's sanity than Brad's limbs. "Yeah?"

"So I decided to let her make the first move…" Brad led, hoping Freddie would get the gist without him having to say the words.

Freddie resisted the urge to laugh in Brad's face and/or loudly celebrate, assuming an overly sympathetic expression instead. "And she hasn't?" Today was definitely looking up.

Brad shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "No." He understood her aversion to PDA – she had a rep to protect – but even alone the most she'd done was hold his hand.

"Don't worry, man; I'm sure it's not you." Damn it – how did he end up feeling _sorry_ for the guy? Freddie really sucked at this whole 'hatred' thing. Leaning against the lockers he explained, "Ever since Jonah made her feel like a fool she's just careful about letting anyone get too close too fast, you know?" He also suspected she was afraid of turning into her mom but that wasn't relevant to the issue at hand.

"Maybe you're right," Brad sighed, leaning next to him. "It's just…I know she wants to kiss me, but then she gets this weird look on her face and pulls away."

Freddie tried really hard not to get his hopes up at this new information, tried not to take it as a sign that Brad _wasn't _what Sam wanted after all. It wasn't working. "Do you want me to talk to her?" _Say yes._

Brad smiled at him gratefully. "Would you?" Thank God he had Freddie in his corner – figuring Sam out was like navigating a minefield sometimes. And while usually he found it to be an interesting challenge he really didn't want to see his relationship go _boom_!

Now that Freddie had his opening he wasn't about to waste it, even though it _did _feel a bit skeevy. "Absolutely," he promised with a crooked grin. _Sorry, Brad – all's fair in love and war._

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><p>Freddie hadn't realized how good Sam was at inconspicuously avoiding him until he <em>knew<em> she was. Every time he'd managed to find her throughout the day she'd either been talking to a teacher (reason enough to be suspicious, right there) or regaling crowds with anecdotes from the night before (best night of her life, apparently). The longer he had to wait to talk to her the more freaked out he was getting.

"You sure you want to do this?" Carly asked anxiously, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. He'd been sitting on the stage staring at the studio door for the last fifteen minutes as though he could will Sam to appear. She knew what he was hoping for, expecting even, but she was worried all he'd end up with was a broken 'ego.' Sam wasn't exactly the most sensitive when it came to other people's feelings…

One way or the other, Freddie had to know. "What if she doesn't come?" What if Brad had spilled the beans? Or someone had overheard their conversation and told her? His paranoia kicked into hyperactive overdrive and he had to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans.

"I'm sure…" Carly's response was cut short by the opening of the door.

"Yo! Yo! Yo!" Sam greeted with feigned enthusiasm, "Mama's got Fat Shakes!" Well, Brad was carrying them _and _had paid but it was the thought that counted, right?

Carly walked over to hug the blonde, muttering an apprehensive 'hi' into her ear. Maybe if she held Sam hostage she could avert the train wreck that was about to happen…

"We would have brought fudge but it was a late night last night," Brad apologized, throwing a conspiratory glance at Freddie while putting down the tray of shakes.

_We? _Freddie growled under his breath. They were a single entity now?

"You can let go," Sam informed the brunette with a gentle pat.

Carly reluctantly released her. This was _not_ going to end well…

Freddie studied Sam's face while she grabbed the things she'd need. She looked tired but okay otherwise. The only clue that she _wasn't _okay was that her Fat Shake was untouched. It was a pretty big clue.

Sam looked around the room. "Hey – anyone see my remote?" She just wanted to get this over with so she could go home to bed. Thank _God_ it was just a rehearsal…

"Sam…" Freddie flipped the remote in the air to catch her attention then held it out to her.

"Thanks, Freddie." She walked over to take it from him and raised an unamused eyebrow when he didn't release it. "Problem?"

Expressing gratitude without being forced into it? Big clue number _two_. "We need to talk, Sam." He stood without relinquishing his hold, his eyes daring her to argue.

She _so _didn't need this right now. "So talk..."

"Alone." Freddie used his free hand to gesture to the door.

Carly and Brad held their collective breath as the two faced off in a battle of wills that seemed to go on forever.

Sam finally broke eye contact and threw her hands in the air, muttering "Whatever!" before stomping out of the studio.

"Thanks, man," Brad whispered as Freddie passed.

Nodding guiltily Freddie entered the hall, closing the door behind him.

"Speak." Sam leaned back against the opposite wall and folded her arms over her chest. "And make it quick." She didn't know what this was about but she was almost absolutely certain she didn't want to hear it.

He knew she was just trying to intimidate him and he wasn't about to let her. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he held up the wall next to the door. "Brad told me you haven't kissed him."

_Man_, those two gossiped like a pair of old biddies at the washing hole; Sam knew of one boyfriend whose future included a lecture on inappropriate sharing. "And?" '_What business is it of yours?_' was heavily implied by her tone.

"Is it about me?" Freddie figured his best bet was to ask leading questions and catch her in a deflection; otherwise she'd just lie through her teeth.

Sam shrugged, willing herself not to get upset. "Well, you did tell me not to, I believe your word was, _assault_ him."

Freddie heard the hurt behind the bitter, and it suddenly occurred to him that maybe his reaction had just made her doubt her kissing skills. "I didn't mean that, Sam – I was just surprised." When her expression didn't change he added, "And since when do you listen to me anyway?"

"You're a man." She gave him a calculating once-over before qualifying, "Well, more than me, at least. I figure you know what you're talking about."

"I never said you were a bad kisser," Freddie defended, ignoring the jab at his masculinity. "You barely gave me a chance to say anything."

And yet what he _had_ said spoke volumes. "Relax, Freddie; your little freak-out didn't break my self-confidence or whatever the hell it is you're blaming yourself for." She didn't need or want his pity.

"It didn't?" She seemed to be telling the truth but he never could tell for sure.

"No – I know I kiss _good_," she mimicked Carly smugly. "Your reaction really says more about you than it does me." Namely his feelings _for _her, but that was neither here nor there.

Freddie believed her, but he didn't know if it was because he should or because he wanted to be right. "You've been dating him for almost two weeks now…" he pressed.

"So now I'm _supposed_ to kiss him?" Boy really needed to make up his mind.

"Yes." Realizing he'd pretty much given her the go-ahead Freddie quickly changed his answer. "No."

"Thanks _so much_ for clearing that up," Sam sniped. What was the point of this conversation again? _Besides_ talking about something that was absolutely none of his business…

Apparently he was going to have to give a little to get a little. "Yes, _if_ you want to…" Freddie pushed himself off the wall to stand in front of her. "No, _I _don't want you to."

Sam ignored the latter part of his sentence and the beat her heart skipped at the possessiveness in his tone. "Why wouldn't I want to?"

And _there_ was the deflection. Placing his hands to either side of her he locked her in before she could run. "Want to know what I think?"

"I'm _breathless_ with anticipation," she commented snidely, her folded arms extended to force him back a step.

The distance she was trying to keep told Freddie how close he was, and he hesitated only a second before putting it out there: "I think you kissed me because you're in love with _me_." Cupping her chin he forced her to meet his eyes. "And I think you only asked Brad out because I didn't react the way you wanted me to."

Understatement of the_ century_…

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><p><strong>TBC :P<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, all! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story and hope you continue to enjoy :)**

**Let me say that I love Brad and hate using him as the vehicle for a Seddie union; it's part of the reason I never posted this story and it's _the _reason you don't see much of the Sam/Brad relationship (I almost jumped the Seddie ship halfway through writing this story I enjoyed Sam/Brad so much in my head). Rest assured, though, this is still a Seddie story ;)**

**This chapter is dedicated to PhoebeTigger. Good luck on your exam, PiTi!**

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><p><strong>Previously on...<strong>

The distance she was trying to keep told Freddie how close he was, and he hesitated only a second before putting it out there: "I think you kissed me because you're in love with _me_." Cupping her chin he forced her to meet his eyes. "And I think you only asked Brad out because I didn't react the way you wanted me to."

Understatement of the_ century_…

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><p><strong>And now...<strong>

"You know what?" Sam didn't know if it was because she was too exhausted to lie or just plain tired of pretending but she decided enough was enough. "You're right."

Freddie blinked in surprise – he hadn't thought it would be that easy. _Nothing_ with Sam ever was.

Brushing his arm away she side-stepped him and walked away from the studio door. "I warned him I was going to ask him out, you know? Told him to 'Just say no!'" She barked a humorless laugh, staring out the stained-glass window. "The last thing I needed was a date so soon after…" She trailed off, wouldn't say _you broke my heart_ aloud.

"Sam…" Suddenly he just wanted her to stop talking, suspected her speaking so freely didn't bode well for him.

"It was supposed to work," she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "You and Carly would have been off my back and things would have gone back to normal. Done and _done_."

Freddie hated the way she made 'normal' sound so sad. "But he didn't say no."

"No, he didn't." She couldn't even muster up the energy to mock him for stating the obvious. "So I figured I'd let him buy me breakfast then semi-nicely explain I just wasn't that into him."

"But you didn't." He wasn't sure he wanted to know _why_ she hadn't; didn't even want to consider what it _meant_.

No, she hadn't. "I didn't care if he liked me or not so I was just myself, you know? I didn't play a part or put on a show or pretend to be something I wasn't." She knew from experience it didn't work anyway; she'd spent weeks trying to be someone Freddie could actually have feelings for, and, seeing as the feelings she'd been going for hadn't been suspicion, distrust, and ultimately disgust, she'd had to accept the problem wasn't how she _acted_, the problem was _her._ "Brad knows me – the _real _me – and he likes me anyway." Turning to Freddie she met his gaze defiantly. "_Go figure._"

Freddie didn't like where this seemed to be going, and he crossed the distance between them to grip her shoulders. "But he _doesn't_ know you… _I_ told him to drive, and what to order you at _Finer Diner,_ and to take you on the Ferris Wheel because you like being above everything. That even though you complain throughout them you actually like sci-fi movies…"

Throwing his hands off her Sam venomously spat, "You're an _idiot_, you know that?" Did he think she was so stupid she hadn't noticed? Was _he _so stupid as to think it was an argument against _Brad_? "That janky diner was _our_ thing, Freddie – chocolate-chip waffles after 'Wake up Spencer.' I made _you _drive so I could stare at you without getting caught. I watched stupid nub movies because _you_ like them. And as much as I like looking down on people I liked the Ferris Wheel 'cause for ten minutes I got to pretend _we _were together…" She poked him in the chest, so violently he was forced backwards a step. "I only did those things because they were with _you,_ so quit deluding yourself that you know me _any better_ than he does!"

The outburst was so raw and unexpected that Freddie was left staggered. He thought it was the most open she'd ever been with him; the first time she hadn't carefully censored her words of anything that could be used against her. "Sam, I didn't know…"

Of course he didn't. "You weren't _supposed_ to know. But you didn't really care, either, did you?" Sam knew she was completely humiliating herself but couldn't seem to stop. "Would you believe I fooled myself into thinking maybe it _meant something_ to you? That somehow I wasn't totally _insane_ to hope if I just held on long enough…" She felt her voice start to crack and covered with a self-deprecating laugh and a cutting wave of her hand. "And you went and gave it all over to him like it was _nothing. _How stupid am I?"

Freddie shook his head, both to dispel the shock and let her know she was wrong. "You're not stupid, okay? _I_ am – I was so busy trying to prove I didn't care you were dating him that _I_ screwed up." Closing the distance again he took her hand. "Sam, I couldn't stand the thought of him doing those things with you…"

Sam jerked away like he'd burned her. "Don't, Freddie." He didn't get to do this. Not now.

Even if it _hadn't_ been more plea than warning he wouldn't have complied. "Don't what? Don't touch you?" Encouraged by her confession (and a little desperate) he tilted her face upwards with the tips of his fingers. "_Don't tell you I love you?_"

She'd _never_ hated him more than she did in that moment, the breath caught in her throat and hot tears burning in her eyes.

When she didn't pull away or argue Freddie leaned in to kiss her. _Properly_ this time.

It took every ounce of strength Sam had to put a restraining hand against his chest but she did it, choking out, "It's too late, Freddie."

The simplicity of the statement made his heart clench. "No, it's not…" She was just punishing him, making him pay for making her wait…

"He's like you, you know?" she admitted sadly, watching – vision blurred – as she traced the lettering on his shirt. "Except the best thing about him is he's _not _you." Brad didn't come with baggage, or five years of painful history.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He'd wrapped his fingers around her wrist with the intention of removing her hand but ended up holding it there instead, worried it was the last time she'd ever be touching him.

She finally met his eyes, forcing her voice steady through the tears. "It means I never had to make his life miserable just to get him to notice me. He doesn't make me tear myself apart trying to figure out why I'm not good enough…" She paused to take a shuddering breath. "And when I'm with him I don't have to wonder if he's wishing I was brunette and perfect instead."

Freddie didn't know what to say, didn't know how she'd managed to keep it all hidden. Framing her face he used the pads of his thumbs to brush the wet tracks from her cheeks. "I don't wish you were someone else, okay? I couldn't even do 'Wake up Spencer' without you…" He hadn't wanted to do _anything_ without her.

Backing away from him Sam turned her gaze out the window to the traffic passing far below. "It doesn't matter, Freddie."

Her voice was soft, _resigned_, and it terrified him. "How can you say that? 'Cause you love him?" _Don't say yes_. _**God**__, don't say yes_.

She could _say_ she did, make things easier, but she'd just gotten done living one lie and wouldn't start living another. "Not yet, but I could." More importantly: "And if he loves me it'll be because he wants to, not because he can't have who he really wants."

He may have been slow on the uptake but Freddie wasn't delusional. "Sam, that's not what this is, okay?" He put himself in front of her, his eyes begging her to understand.

"It doesn't _matter_ anymore, Freddie." The things they'd done to each other did not a solid foundation make, and there was just too much she couldn't forget, even if she _did_ want to believe him.

"Then why haven't you kissed him?" he demanded, tone fraught. "If you're not in love with me anymore why do you stop yourself from kissing him?" That was the only thing he had left to hold on to.

"I never said I wasn't," Sam unhappily pointed out. Every night she managed to convince herself she was over him only to be painfully reminded she wasn't whenever she saw him. Lately she'd been spending very little time sleeping and a lot of time waging an internal war.

Freddie knew by her voice that she _wished_ she wasn't. And it killed him. "Then why can't we be together?" He sounded petulant but didn't care.

Normally she was the one asking _herself _that question; the answer was still 'Carly.' "Because I can't be in a relationship where I feel like a consolation prize, Freddie. Not when I'm finally someone's first choice."

There weren't any words to describe just how much he hated that she felt that way. "Sam, _please_ – just give me a chance…" He'd get on his knees if he had to...

The tears came back with a vengeance, and Sam had to swallow the lump in her throat to hoarsely whisper, "Funny – I thought I _had_." The night of the Lock-In, when she'd thought he was talking about _them_, she'd been willing to put it all behind them. Start fresh. _Now_… now she didn't think she'd ever be able to forget how utterly shattered she'd been to be wrong.

He watched her jaw set and the resolve hit her eyes and knew she'd made up her mind. "Sam, please don't do this…"

Sam shook her head, moving away from him before her determination could crumble. "_You_ did this. Not me."

"Sam…" If he could go back and do it all over again he would. In a heartbeat.

She wiped her face dry and took a breath to calm herself, making sure her mask was carefully in place before turning away from him and walking back into the studio.

Too devastated to move Freddie stood there, his lungs refusing to function properly and unshed tears in his eyes. He didn't want to go back in the studio, didn't think he _could_, but if Sam had been able to do it time and again he had no choice. He wasn't as good an actor as her, would settle for not looking like his entire world had just come crashing down around him; any possibility of that happening was decimated when he saw them through the glass of the door.

Freddie wasn't naïve enough to think he was the only guy Sam had kissed – she'd had her share of boyfriends – but she'd never actually done it in front of him before. Maybe if she _had_ he'd have realized how he felt a lot sooner, the sight like a burning knife being shoved into his chest and twisted. It made him wonder if she'd felt the same when he'd kissed Carly. Wonder if she'd loved him even then…

It wasn't until they'd broken apart, 'til Brad noticed him over her head and mouthed 'thank you,' that Freddie decided he couldn't take any more. Finally allowing the tears to fall he made his way home, certain the intern would be more than happy to replace him with _iCarly, _too.

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><p><strong>Ouch, huh? I know it was short and painful but hang in there, k?<strong>

**And you all thought she was going to deny it ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, I feel horrible about leaving you guys with the bad taste of the last chapter in your mouths so I'm updating early. This chapter isn't all sunshine and rainbows but it's not crazy depressing so it's a step up :)**

**I love hearing your thoughts, opinions, and predictions so keep it up!**

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><p>Freddie glanced around the hallway to make sure Sam was nowhere to be seen before joining Brad at his locker. "Hey."<p>

Brad greeted Freddie with a huge grin. "Hey, man. Thanks again for last night." Whatever he'd said to Sam had worked like a charm.

"_Actually_," Freddie began tightly, resisting the urge to punch the grin off his face, "I need to ask you a favor."

After everything Freddie had done for him Brad didn't hesitate. "You need me to tutor you?"

Freddie's brow furrowed, part confusion, part annoyance. "Why would I need you to tutor me?" Like Brad was any smarter than he was…

Taking out the books he'd need Brad shrugged, "Sam said you had to take off last night 'cause you were having trouble with History…"

_Trouble with History? _He wasn't having trouble with… It hit Freddie that she hadn't been referring to the class but to their conversation, she was so crafty with her lies. He supposed he should just be grateful she hadn't said Chemistry… Going for intimidation he folded his arms over his chest. "I want you to back off."

Brad held his hands up defensively. "Look, man, Carly told Sam you were upset we postponed rehearsal." Maybe it had disrupted his study schedule or something… "We won't do it again."

Weeks of playing nice finally took their toll and Freddie's control snapped. "Let's get something straight…" he growled, stepping up to Brad, "_Sam _reschedules _iCarly _stuff, _you_ make fudge. You are _not_ one person!"

"Uh…" Brad blinked at the sudden outburst – Freddie was always a little on edge when it came to Sam but it was the first time he'd been openly hostile. "You aren't just asking me to slow things down, are you?" he realized. "You want me to break up with her…"

_Ding ding ding; give the boy a prize. _"Uh-huh."

Apparently Freddie was done pretending they were 'barely' friends; the only question left was how far _beyond_ 'barely friends' it went. "And it's _not_ because of the show…"

Did the guy need a flashing billboard? "_No_."

Well, that answered _that_ question, but while Brad may have understood he still didn't _understand_. "I gave you a chance to veto the whole thing when it started, man; you _encouraged_ me…" Hell, he'd done everything short of telling him how to propose.

The wind rushed from Freddie's sails. He'd expected indignation and anger; he couldn't hate the guy when he was just trying to make sense of the mess Freddie had made. "It was a mistake, okay?" he muttered, arms falling limply to his sides.

Brad wanted to ask how that was _his_ problem; why he should break up with _his_ girlfriend because Freddie had suddenly realized something he probably should have known all along. Except, like it or not, it _was_ his problem_._ "That's why you were so eager to talk to her yesterday – you wanted to know if it was because of you."

"I _needed_ to know…" It didn't justify his actions but it was all Freddie had.

Shaking his head in disbelief Brad closed his locker and went to sit on the bench. "I came to you for help and you used it against me. That's not cool, man." _So_ not cool.

Betrayed hurt radiated off the guy and Freddie felt like the biggest slime ball on earth. "In my defense I didn't just suddenly decide to go after Sam – _she_ kissed _me_."

Wait, _what_? Brad narrowed his eyes at Freddie. "What are you talking about?"

"Not last night," Freddie quickly clarified, glad he wasn't within hitting distance. "The night of the Lock-In Carly roped me into her plan to get you two together…"

"I was there, remember?" They hadn't exactly been subtle about it, and Brad was a little more interested in the story of his girlfriend making out with someone else.

Yeah, but Freddie would bet Sam hadn't told him the whole story. "Sam's MoodFace reading said she was 'in love;' we just assumed it was you because she'd been acting all weird since you showed up." He still didn't know why she'd been acting weird but he didn't think she was going to enlighten him any time soon.

Brad felt his chest tighten at the direction the conversation was taking. He wasn't surprised – he'd been burying his doubts since the beginning – but it still hurt. Especially since last night he'd finally gotten to a place where he'd felt somewhat secure in his relationship.

"Anyway, she was fighting us so I gave her some pep talk about not being afraid of showing how she felt." Leaning on the wall next to the bench Freddie lowered his voice to a whisper. "And then she kissed me."

"I don't understand." This wasn't how Brad had wanted to start his day, hurt and confused. "If she kissed you why are we here?" Was he missing something?

Freddie swallowed hard. "I didn't react well, okay?" He didn't think the details would garner him any sympathy so he left them out. "I was in shock and by the time I caught up she'd already written me off and changed her story; said she was just practicing for you."

"And you bought that?" Maybe Freddie _was_ the most gullible boy in America…

It _did_ sound lame when repeated but Brad hadn't been there. "Have you _met_ Sam? She lies as easily as she breathes; if she'd told me she accidentally fell into my lips I probably would have believed her." Sadly it wasn't much of an exaggeration.

Brad couldn't argue – he'd seen the show she'd put on that night. Of course at the time he hadn't known the _whole thing_ was an act… "She only asked me out so she didn't blow her cover." And she'd told him to say no because she really hadn't wanted to date him, not because she was worried he'd feel obligated.

Freddie felt horrible for Brad's devastated tone. Sitting on the bench he swung his backpack above the ground and grudgingly shared, "Maybe, but she does like you."

Yeah, that was comforting when she was _in love_ with someone else. "So what do you need me for? I can't stop you from telling her..." Or her from dropping him like a good habit once she found out.

The confession came out no more than a depressed puff of air: "I told her last night."

"_Wow_." Brad let out a bitter laugh. "When you break the bro code you _really _break the bro code." He turned to Freddie with wide eyes, realizing what that meant. "She turned you down…"

Freddie wished the guy would at least sound happy about it – it would make what he was doing easier. "I told you she likes you."

As if the conversation wasn't surreal enough Brad heard himself argue "But she _loves_ you…"

"Yup. Has for…" Well, Freddie didn't know how long; he'd been more interested in winning her over than getting details. "A long time," he finished lamely.

Knowing his initial assumption was right didn't make Brad feel any better_._ "Then what's the problem?"

"It doesn't _matter_ anymore," Freddie repeated Sam's words miserably. "I guess she got tired of waiting for me to wake up." Accepting the real reason he added, "And I don't think she believes me, anyway. 'Cause of Carly."

Brad could see how Sam might have that reservation; he hadn't seen any evidence of Freddie still being hung up on Carly but he hadn't really been around all that long. He asked, what he thought was reasonably, "_Should_ she believe you?"

Without hesitation Freddie nodded. "Carly hasn't been an issue for a while." When they'd dated there was just something uncomfortable about the whole thing, even before he'd been informed he was bacon. "Anything that says otherwise is just because old habits die hard, you know?"

No, Brad didn't, but he wasn't in Freddie's head either. He had to point out, "And it's gonna be just as hard for Sam to believe it." Especially after Freddie had rejected her…

Freddie sighed, dropping his bag to lean back against the wall. "I know. That's why I need your help."

That was rich considering how Freddie had 'helped' him. "You said yourself no one tells Sam what to do – what makes you think if I break up with her she'll go running to you?"

"I don't think she'll run to me." It was pretty much a given she _wouldn't_, actually; she was suspicious enough by nature that Freddie having something to do with it would be her first thought. Second maybe, after how she could make Brad pay. "I just need time to prove to her that I'm serious; with you in the picture she won't even let me try…"

Brad looked down at his hands in his lap. "You get what you're asking me, right? I like her, Freddie. _A lot_." Even if she was in love with someone else. "And you want me to just give her up..."

"I practically gave her to you in the first place…" Freddie realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth and Brad's face darkened. "I didn't…"

"Don't," Brad warned, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. The conversation had just gone from surreal to insulting. "You don't get to act like I owe you something, man. I get that this is a crappy situation but it's a crappy situation _you_ made."

Accurate or not the statement still chafed. "Why is this all my fault? Sam's spent the last five years antagonizing and torturing me – how was I supposed to know she was in love with me?"

Brad rolled his eyes. "Maybe 'cause you've known her for five years?" Apparently Freddie was only an expert on Sam when it made him look good.

Freddie's eyes narrowed at the insinuation. "I know her as well as anyone _can_ know her, all right?" He'd spent years watching her reactions until he could (mostly) anticipate them. He knew her habits, her motivations. He knew her well enough that she'd become almost predictable in her unpredictability. Still, he wasn't stupid enough to think he knew _everything_. "She isn't exactly an open book."

"Most people _aren't_." And for good reason – most people knew that wearing your heart on your sleeve was a good way to get it broken. Freddie's experience with Carly should have taught him that.

And that right there proved Brad didn't know his girlfriend half as well as he thought he did. "Oh, no. Sam takes it to a whole new level. You ever try to have a conversation with her she doesn't want to have?" Shaking his head Freddie sighed, "She is the _master_ of diversionary tactics: if she doesn't shame you into changing the subject by making you feel like an idiot she'll distract you with a non-answer, all without you even noticing." His mind kept going back to when he'd asked her if she was jealous of him and Carly – at the time her answer of '_Gross!' _had translated to a resounding '_No_' but he realized now she'd never actually denied it. The problem with deciphering Sam's comments was that they could always be taken ten different ways, though he supposed that was exactly her intention.

Brad wracked his memory for any such conversation he might have (almost) had with Sam but couldn't think of any. "If you don't notice she's doing it then how do you know?" he asked skeptically.

Hindsight? Years of experience? "One time I asked her about her dad and she turned around and asked me about mine; it wasn't until that night it hit me I'd spilled my guts for an hour and she hadn't said a word. I finally got wise to her game." Not that it had helped him any – every time it happened Freddie swore he wouldn't let her sidetrack him anymore and every time she managed to fool and/or intimidate him anyway. Until the night of the Lock-In: for once he'd stood up to her, amid threats of double-fist face-dancing no less, and he'd been so close. Hell, he'd been _there, _and he'd let her mislead him once again.

"You make her sound like some covert special agent guarding national secrets." Brad would have laughed if the image wasn't so darn sexy…

That sure would explain a lot. Like her random knowledge of martial arts, tech, and foreign languages, her abnormal strength and dexterity, her talents for scheming, theft, and B&E. Franklin was her handler, of course – that's why they'd always been strangely close and how Sam managed to keep passing even though she did absolutely nothing to deserve it. And when she disappeared or was late (which was often) it was because she was on some clandestine mission, kicking bad guy ass in a catsuit and heels, _Nikita_-style…

Brad waved his hand in front of Freddie to bring him back down to Earth. "Dude! Think you can stop inappropriately fantasizing about _my _hot would-be spy girlfriend long enough to finish the completely absurd conversation _you _started?" He didn't really want to but anything was better than the look on Freddie's face at the moment. Brad would hit him if it weren't his own fault for suggesting it.

As… _entertaining_ as the spy scenario was Freddie had to concede that it wasn't very likely. He did promise himself he'd revisit it later, though. At great length. Shaking his head to clear it he corrected, "She's guarding _her own _secrets. Sam has this thing against talking about stuff that hurts her; like admitting she has feelings makes her weak or something." And Sam didn't _do _weak. It was what made the night before so scary – the only way she'd let him know he had power over her was if he didn't anymore.

While Brad had no doubt Sam saw being weak as the worst kind of sin he would bet that wasn't the real issue. "I think you're making this a lot more complicated than it actually is, man. You know Occam's razor?"

Of course he knew Occam's razor: the simplest of competing theories is usually the correct one. "And just what is it that _you_ think the reason is?" Freddie couldn't help it if his tone was condescending – Brad had known Sam all of a month yet he thought he had all the answers.

Brad knew Freddie wouldn't want to hear it but it needed to be said. "She's not going to open up and be all touchy-feely with the people who hurt her most, even if they are her best friends." _Especially _if they were her best friends.

Freddie's first instinct was to deny it. He didn't want to believe she felt she had to protect herself from them, from _him_, but on some level he knew it was at least partly true. She'd never been particularly open but she'd always been candid, most everything she said giving a little more insight into the convoluted way her mind worked, into her imperfect world. For a while now she'd been changing, though, speaking louder but _saying _less; like she'd deliberately grown more obnoxious to keep them from noticing just how emotionally distant she'd become. And it had worked. "I'm such an idiot," he sighed, knocking his head back against the wall.

"Sometimes it's easier to see the whole picture when you're not in it," Brad offered as consolation. Since he'd started dating Sam he found he'd started ignoring a whole lot of things. Like Freddie's mounting animosity and the way Sam tried to avoid him altogether.

Dropping his face into his hands Freddie mumbled, "I just need a chance to make it up to her."

Brad cocked a disapproving eyebrow even though Freddie couldn't see it. "So to make up for possibly years of putting her through hell you're going to hurt her some more by getting me to break up with her?" That was an _excellent _plan_._

And the guilt just kept building; apparently Freddie hadn't really thought this thing through. Last night he'd seen up close the effects of what he'd done to her, seen her all broken and vulnerable. Could he do it again if it meant (eventually) getting their 'complicated' ever after? _No_. He never wanted her hurt that way again, much less by something he did. He lifted his head to look at Brad solemnly. "It has to be her decision…"

"Yeah, it does," Brad confirmed, thankful Freddie was making the right choice. If he had to lose Sam at least he wouldn't have to question whether or not Freddie truly deserved her. "Besides, if it happens this way you'll never know if it happened for the right reasons."

_If it happened at all_. Sam was stubborn enough to fight him all the way, and Freddie was pretty sure if it came down to it she had more 'stubborn' than he had 'determined.' He was so screwed.

Brad watched Freddie stare morosely at his clasped hands and felt bad even though he really shouldn't. "Look, man, I just want her to be happy. I'm not gonna fight you for her but you need to do this on your own."

"You're right." Freddie knew the guy was refusing more to protect Sam than for himself and that earned a certain amount of grudging respect. He would feel better about his chances if Brad weren't so damn perfect… His pity party was interrupted by a nudge to his leg.

Once he had Freddie's attention Brad motioned towards where Sam could be seen coming down the hall.

Sam's steps faltered when she saw Freddie and Brad sitting together but she forced herself to keep moving. "What's up with the nerd pow-wow? Cutting Room Flow 2 come out?" Okay, so it wasn't her best work but she thought she could be forgiven given the circumstances.

"Interested? I know how much you like upgrades…" As much as Freddie hated taking that tone with her, especially now, he needed to distract her from what they were really talking about. He figured it was just the right amount of indignation considering the way they'd left things.

"Of course," Sam easily returned, wondering if he realized he'd just implied Brad was better than him. He never had been very good with the comebacks… "They don't have any of the _annoying glitches_ the original had."

"Guys…" They may have been talking about him but Brad still felt so far outside the conversation.

Freddie opened his mouth then shut it with a snap, his gaze dropping to his hands. He'd practically given her an engraved invitation for that one but it still hurt like hell.

Just another reason for her to hate Freddie for the night before – it took all the fun out of putting him down. Burying the guilt she turned her attention to Brad. "Ready? I'll let you buy me a snack before class."

Brad knew he'd said he wouldn't get involved but acting like nothing was going on felt dirty. He shot Freddie an apologetic glance before standing. "A snack? Or a complete breakfast?"

"You're a smart boy; what do you think?" Sam teased as she normally would, secretly relieved he hadn't tried to kiss her in front of Freddie. She didn't know what she would have done if he had.

"Did you do your homework?" Brad knew the answer even before she gave him a mock-incredulous glare.

"Yeah, _right_." Homework had been the last thing on her mind when she'd gotten home. Not that it was ever the _first _thing… "But even slackers need to eat. And they _do_ say breakfast is the most important meal of the day..."

Freddie scoffed up at her. "Since when do you care what 'they' say?"

"Since it suits my needs at the moment," Sam countered, forcing a mischievous grin. She would ask him why he was still there but didn't want to see _that _look in his eyes again. He did 'kicked puppy' way too well.

Ignoring the awkward best he could Brad coaxed, "If I buy you breakfast do you promise to at least stay awake in class?"

Surely he knew her better than that. Sidling up to him Sam sweetly counter-offered, "If you buy me breakfast I'll let you have a bite…"

Brad had to smile at her version of appropriate compromise. "Just one?" You couldn't blame him for trying, or for giving in when she offered like that.

Sam heaved a put-upon sigh before allowing, "Fine – maybe two."

_Ugh. _"Or you could just buy yourself breakfast at the same time…" Freddie suggested irritably.

Sighing, Brad went to retrieve his backpack from the floor at his locker. "We should go before the cafeteria closes." And before Sam decided she'd had enough of Freddie's passive-aggressiveness. The guy certainly wasn't helping his cause any.

"Right," Sam agreed, following him without a glance at Freddie. "Wouldn't want to be late and miss out…"

There was no inflection in her tone, no emphasis, but Freddie got the message loud and clear. He watched them walk away before letting his head fall back against the wall and closing his eyes. _So screwed._


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Saturday :)**

* * *

><p>The peal of the doorbell woke Freddie from his nap and he groggily made his way to answer it. "Hey."<p>

_Hey? _Carly put her hands on her hips disapprovingly. "What happened? We were supposed to come home together after my yearbook meeting…" Before he'd disappeared that morning she'd made him promise to wait for her 'cause all he'd say on the way _to _school was that Sam had chosen to stay with Brad. Like she couldn't have guessed _that much _for herself…

"I left at lunch." Nice to know they'd missed him…

_Oh. _She'd spent the entire period trying to get Sam's side of the story and hadn't noticed he'd gone MIA. "You can't avoid her forever, Freddie," she sighed, taking in his disheveled appearance and sad eyes. "We have to do the show tonight…"

Freddie closed his door and followed the brunette into her apartment. "I wasn't avoiding Sam…" Not having to see her with Brad had just been a bonus. "I was rallying the troops."

"Oh, God…" Carly dropped her bag on the chair and threw him a wary look. "Please tell me that's code for 'I ditched school to play with my G.I. John's'…"

Shaking his head he corrected, "I have a plan to get Sam back." It wasn't a very _good _one, but still; she hadn't exactly left him with many options.

_Oh, Freddie._ "You realize you never really had her, right?"

Freddie waved the detail away as unimportant. Sam loved him, and as soon as she broke up with Brad he could start working on proving he loved her, too.

Carly sighed and went to grab a snack. "She's happy with Brad, Freddie."

What was that? Her go-to line? He didn't expect her to be all gung-ho on the idea of them together but she could at least be supportive… Trailing her to the kitchen he argued, "She'll be _happier _with me."

Just because he wanted it to be true didn't make it so. "Maybe Sam's right and there's too much to get past, you know?" she advised as she brought her bowl to the island. "She just wants to move on."

"She told you what happened?" Freddie didn't know if that was a good sign or not. Probably not.

Carly froze with the grape an inch from her lips. "Uh… sorta?"

"What does that mean?" The guilty expression told him he wasn't going to like it.

Popping the fruit into her mouth with exaggerated nonchalance she admitted, "I kinda told her you'd already told me…"

"Carly!" Like he wasn't fighting an uphill battle as it was; the last thing he needed was Sam thinking he'd gone running to Carly about it.

"Hey! No more secrets, remember?" she defended with a pout. She should have gotten the promise in writing, not that it would deter Sam any.

Freddie ran a hand through his hair. "She's gonna kill me…"

_Aw_. Now she felt bad. "Relax; she figured it out quick enough." Carly was still surprised it had worked at all. "She wasn't even mad – she actually seemed kind of proud of me." _Only Sam._

Or she was just relieved she'd figured it out before giving too much away; Freddie had no doubt if Carly knew it had anything to do with her she'd have led with it. "Did she say anything helpful, at least?"

"She told me how they get the fortunes into fortune cookies…" His blank look told Carly he wasn't impressed with her joke but it didn't change the fact that she couldn't help him. "She just wants you to let it go, Freddie."

He was about to tell her it wasn't happening when the door opened and the subject of their conversation walked in.

"Hi!" Carly glanced at the clock, confused. "You're early…"

Freddie couldn't help but mention, "And alone."

_Seriously? _"Brad doesn't feel the need to follow me around like a creepy shadow." Arching an eyebrow Sam added pointedly, "Big surprise finding you _here_, by the way." She hadn't even needed to check his apartment first.

"Sam…" He could tell her he wasn't there for the reason she was implying but she wouldn't be any happier to know they were talking about her.

Carly went to meet her in the living room, head cocked to the side. "You're touchier than usual." Remembering how her conversation with Freddie had started she directed her attention back to him. "She's touchier than usual – _what did you do_?"

"Tell her what you did, Tick," Sam goaded snidely, arms crossed over her chest.

The force of their combined expectant stares had Freddie resisting the urge to cringe. Sighing, he walked over to the computer; might as well just show her…

"Freddie, you didn't!" Carly didn't need to wait for him to turn on the monitor to figure out that 'rallying the troops' meant using their fans. No wonder Sam was so touchy – she hadn't even wanted to tell her best friend what was going on and he'd gone and put it on the internet.

Sam watched the _iCarly _page load with narrowed eyes. _He wouldn't dare._

Freddie was in the process of moving out of the way so Carly could see when Sam violently pushed him out of _her _way. He managed to catch himself before he flew headfirst into the elevator doors.

"You have got to be _freaking _kidding me!" She was going to kill him. Horribly and painfully. And permanently.

_Oh, God. _"That's not what you were talking about?" He would kick himself for tipping his hand but by the looks of it she was going to do it for him.

Did it _look_ like that's what she was talking about? "_I was talking_ about you trying to get Brad to dump me!"

Carly only briefly took her eyes off the monitor to admonish, "Freddie!" Sam could fight for herself (and no doubt would) – Carly was more interested in the results of the 'Who should Sam date?' poll he'd posted.

If it had been one or the other Freddie might have stood a chance; he didn't even know how to justify both. The absolute fury in Sam's eyes told him he shouldn't bother trying. "I…"

"Hey – how come I'm not an option?" Carly interrupted with a pout. When her best friends turned to her with identical WTF faces she defended, "You've seen the comments – _you know it's out there_." Okay, so she was feeling a little left out…

Sam shook her head in disbelief before returning to glaring at Freddie. "It wasn't enough to try and break us up? You had to put your propaganda on our site for the entire _world_ to see?"

_Propaganda? _"It's a poll, Sam – it's not like I blogged the whole story." Apparently she didn't think there was much of a difference. And apparently she'd forgotten that using the show for her own nefarious purposes was her favorite pastime.

He was damned lucky he _hadn't_ blogged about it; there wouldn't be a hole deep enough for him to hide in… "What did you think would happen, Freddie? I'd just magically develop amnesia because some morons on the net think you'd make a better boyfriend?"

Hearing the rage seeping through the blonde's voice Carly spun her stool to face them. If she knew Sam (and she did) it was about to get very messy.

"It's not 'some morons.'" Taking a quick look at the screen Freddie supplied, "It's like 170,000 of our fans – and _Seddie_ is beating _Sad_ by over 60%..." Even their ship name was lame and his tone let her know he thought so.

"It'd be less if _Cam_ was up there," Carly interjected lightly, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Just saying..." At least Sam and Freddie were on the same page when it came to giving her dirty looks…

Ignoring the brunette Sam put her hands on her hips. "Obviously you're going to win – they don't know Brad. And I'm going to guess you left out the inconvenient truth that I'm _already _dating him…"

Like _she_ didn't ignore the truth when it was inconvenient. Freddie was smart enough not to call her out on the rampant hypocrisy, though, so he played it off with a shrugged, "Well, I didn't think you'd want me announcing the details of your personal life…"

Carly hopped out of her seat in time to catch Sam mid-lunge. "Alright – _corners_!" Freddie was trying to be funny but she knew the blonde found the irony anything but amusing.

Realizing that now probably wasn't the best time to poke the bear Freddie did as he was told and went into the kitchen. As an added precaution he removed all potential projectiles from the counter that was separating them.

Sam's knuckles were white as she gripped the granite, leaning across it to growl, "It's a stupid popularity contest, Freddie!" They'd seen up close and personal at ComiCon how rabid the fans could be. "If it were you up there with me and Carly as the choices I bet you she'd win – what would you say then?"

"It's a bet," Freddie readily accepted. She didn't follow the _iCarly _boards and emails like he did; he was pretty confident of his chances.

Carly saw Sam's body tense and knew she was about to pounce, over the counter if she had to. Wrapping a preventive arm around the blonde's waist she suggested nervously, "Okay – maybe we need to take a minute to calm down…"

Freddie paid the warning no heed. "We put the poll up and if you don't beat Carly by at least 20% I'll leave you alone."

"Hey!" Talk about offending the hand that was keeping him from being pounded into a bloody pulp…

He gave Carly an unapologetic shrug; this wasn't about her. "But if I win…"

Sam cut him off with a fist to the counter, hissing, "I'm not breaking up with Brad over a bet!" The restraint it took to not seriously hurt him left her body shaking.

"_When I win_," Freddie continued undeterred, "you have to give me one night."

"Freddie!" Carly shot him an appalled look over Sam's shoulder. Had he misplaced his integrity at the same time he'd lost his sense of self-preservation?

"Not like that," he rolled his eyes without taking them off Sam. "You have to give me one night to prove to you I'm serious." He shifted his gaze to Carly for an instant. "That the rest doesn't matter." If he couldn't get her to break up with Brad maybe he could force her to give him a chance.

Sam could feel the sadness creeping up, threatening to swallow her whole if she let it. "Why are you doing this?"

Everything about her screamed defeated – the sagging of her shoulders, her subdued tone – and Freddie had to tell himself he was doing the right thing. "You know why, Sam." If she'd just stop fighting him he'd make it okay. Why didn't she understand that?

All of a sudden Carly felt like she was eavesdropping, and while normally she had no shame this time it felt dirty. Removing her arm from Sam's waist she took hold of the fabric of the blonde's shirt and backed up as far as she could. Then turned to casually stare at the blank television.

"I'm not playing your game, Freddie," Sam quietly advised. He thought if he just pushed hard enough she'd give in; problem was she was a lot closer to breaking than she was to bending. And not even by choice.

"Because you're scared I'll win…" If there was one thing she couldn't resist responding to it was a direct challenge. Of course there was always a good chance her response would be in the form of a limb to a sensitive area of his body but he was running out of ideas.

Sam barked an unhappy laugh. "You're amazing, you know that?"

He was absolutely certain she hadn't meant it as a compliment. "Sam…"

"Enough!" She couldn't take it anymore; he thought he knew her so well but it was funny how little he _understood_. She wasn't refusing for the sake of being stubborn, she was refusing 'cause even if she won she still lost. Still had hundreds of thousands of people telling her she wasn't good enough. Still came in second. No – if Sam was afraid of anything it was that he _wouldn't _win_._ But she _wasn't_ afraid - not at all - because in the end it wasn't even how their fans felt that mattered to her. _That's _what he didn't seem to be getting, and she didn't have the strength or the inclination to walk him through it… Rounding on Carly she warned, voice colder than ice, "You need to talk some sense into the boy."

Carly was so surprised by the sudden movement that, eyes wide, she just let Sam walk by her.

"Where are you going?" Freddie had no idea what just happened but knew it wasn't good for him.

"Elsewhere." Stopping with her hand on the doorknob Sam turned to fix him with a brutal stare. "See, murder is one of those things they'll try me as an adult for, and as much as I'd own the big house I hear the food sucks."

_Definitely_ not good for him.

"But the show starts in an hour…" Carly didn't think appealing to her sense of professionalism would work but she had to try something.

"Do you want every conversation we have for the next twenty years to be preceded by a strip search?" Sam proposed, eyebrow raised.

Carly quickly shook her head. Juvie creeped her out enough as it was; she didn't even want to _think_ about what a visit to prison entailed.

_Didn't think so. _"Then I'm leaving."

As soon as the door closed (slammed) behind the blonde Carly griped, "Yeah – her relationship with _Brad_ is affecting the show…"

Freddie really didn't need a visit from the Sass Master at the moment; ignoring the jab he went to flop himself down on the couch.

"What were you thinking?" she marveled when it became clear he wasn't going to volunteer an explanation. She was really starting to worry about his state of mind. And the future of _iCarly_.

"That I need to get rid of him if I'm gonna have a chance?" Sam was using Brad like a shield, an irrefutable excuse to keep Freddie at arms length, and he wasn't going to get anywhere while she had a boyfriend to hide behind (not that Sam would ever _admit_ to hiding behind anything).

Carly couldn't say he was wrong but his solution was a little suspect. "And you thought he was going to break up with her just because you asked nicely?"

Well he hadn't exactly asked _nicely_ but she didn't need to know that. "I had to try. And I told him to forget it, anyway; he convinced me it would be meaningless if she didn't break up with him."

At least he was still capable of _listening_ to reason, even if he was losing his own grip on it. "So you decided to use the _iCarly _fans to pressure into doing it?" She couldn't help the skepticism that had bled into her voice; Sam was the _queen_ of peer-pressure – people did what _she_ told _them_, not the other way around. _Sam_ would risk making herself violently ill to specifically _not _do what she was told. If anyone should know that it was Freddie.

"I guess so." He'd known it was probably wishful thinking - more long shot than foolproof - but that morning when Sam said she listened to other people if it suited her purposes he'd taken it as a hint; thought she was giving him a way where she could give in and still save face, like she would turn around and say, 'Sorry, Brad, but the _iCarly _fans think I belong with Freddie.' _Yeah, right._

"Ah." Carly nodded even though she still didn't understand how he'd thought that would work. "_Good plan_."

"Yeah…" Freddie didn't blame her for the sarcasm; that he'd even entertained the idea in the first place was testament to just how desperate he was. Only half-joking he added morosely, "You think Uncle Carmine could help me come up with a better one?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi, guys. Brace yourselves for an uber long author's note.**

**I wish I could say that I'm updating so soon due to the kindness of my heart and because you guys are awesome but unfortunately those are not the reasons (though I do have a kind heart and you guys _are _awesome). I used to stay up all night when a new episode aired waiting for some generous soul to post it online ('cause I'm in Canada, eh) but somewhere in season 4 I just started waiting for it to air on YTV and even then it sat on my PVR until I had nothing better to watch. I just recently saw iToe Fat Cakes (I'm sure there's a reason for that title but for the life of me I can't figure it out) and the utter nonchalance WRT Sam not having a parent who cares really rubbed me the wrong way, because as many of you know from iWYTBMF I try to take Sam's home life and its effects on her seriously. Then the online buzz about Saturday's episode had me looking it up and when I found a season 2 episode, complete with Freddie following after Carly like a puppy and Sam standing there trying to figure out WTH was going on, I just... I can't do it anymore. I'm not saying the show isn't funny anymore because it _is;_ I just find the character development after season 3 to be atrocious and when I start to actively hate my once favorite characters is when I check out. But those are my issues, not yours; I just want you to know where my head is at. Some of you already knew how disillusioned I was/am with the show but I feel the need to explain myself to all.**

**There's two chapters of this story left after this one and they will both be up next weekend. No offence to you beautiful people - I'm very grateful for the love and support you give my stories - I just really need to be done with it. As far as iWYTBMF is concerned I _am_ still working on it (and will be finishing it as promised) but find myself lacking the motivation or the inclination to write _iCarly _right now and so I'll be wrapping it up within the next chapter or two. Which is really a good thing for you guys because you keep asking for resolution, right? And **I feel completely vindicated in choosing to _still_ have Sam reluctant to believe Freddie loves her even years later, too, so there's that. Gotta look for those s**ilver linings, I guess...**

**Feel free to PM me to discuss or call me a deserter or whatever you will.**

**This chapter has a higher rating due to indirect references to mature themes.**

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><p>Freddie watched from the couch as Carly paced the living room while periodically calling Sam and consistently getting directed to voicemail. As time went by his brooding (and her pacing) intensified; they had less than thirty minutes until the show started and no idea what to do when half of their dynamic duo had gone AWOL. He knew the skits well enough to be a poor man's Sam Puckett but then the only one who would be able to do all the tech stuff in <em>his<em> place was Brad and thankfully his name hadn't even come up as a solution. _They're probably together anyway_, Freddie thought miserably, sinking deeper into the cushions.

A knock sounded on the door and Carly practically bowled Gibby over in her haste to answer it. Realistically she knew Sam wouldn't knock (or if she _did_ she wouldn't wait for an answer) but she was still disappointed to find Brad on the other side. Waving him in she sighed, "_Hi_."

It didn't take a genius to figure out she'd been hoping he was someone else. "Everything okay?"

_Just peachy._ At least Freddie knew Sam hadn't gone running to her perfect boyfriend, small comfort that it was…

No one said anything so Brad assumed it was a 'no.' And it was a pretty safe bet it was connected with the fact that his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen… "Where's Sam?"

Shutting the door behind him Carly quietly supplied, "She left."

Brad nervously hiked his bag higher on his shoulder. "What happened?" Freddie was sitting there so she obviously hadn't killed him and gone on the run.

Like he didn't know… Unable to stop himself Freddie griped, "You opened your big mouth, _that's_ what."

"Freddie!" Carly chastised, hands on hips. It was hardly Brad's fault…

"She asked me what we were talking about this morning," Brad defended, "I wasn't going to lie to her." A: he was a terrible liar, and B: he'd said he wasn't going to fight, not that he was going to roll over…

Gibby just continued to eat his pudding, thinking he could make a small fortune on the _iCarly _behind the scenes drama if he weren't so terrified Sam wouldn't stop at a thumb.

"It's okay," Freddie sighed in self-loathing. He knew he had no one but himself to blame for his 'brilliant' plan backfiring; he just wasn't capable of doing _anything_ right, apparently.

Carly shot him a concerned glance before adding, "She's not mad about that anyway." She didn't know _how _Sam wasn't mad about that but that was Sam for you.

_She's not? _Brad raised a confused eyebrow, suddenly worried that Freddie had somehow turned it around on him. "Then what's she mad about?"

Letting out a resigned groan Freddie motioned to the monitor; the guy would find out sooner or later anyway, and it wasn't really his reaction that mattered.

"_Dude_!" Brad muttered, seeing what was on the screen. He didn't even _have_ to fight – Freddie was imploding all on his own.

"_Yeah_," Freddie unenthusiastically agreed.

Carly shifted her gaze from one boy to the other. You really couldn't tell by looking at them that one was trying to steal the other's girlfriend, and not for the first time that week she pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. The whole thing was just _weird_…

Brad didn't know why he did it – morbid curiosity was his best guess – but he refreshed the page. Apparently everyone was on the site waiting for the show because over 700,000 people had already voted and Freddie was leading with 88%. "I should go find her."

"You can't leave…" Carly argued, blocking his path. "We need you to do the tech stuff for the show." Out of respect to Freddie she hadn't suggested calling him before but now that he was _there_…

"Can't you get your brother to fill in for her?" Brad didn't want to leave them hanging but at the moment his girlfriend was out there _somewhere_ doing _something _that would most certainly get her into trouble and she was the priority.

Carly understood his dilemma – if it weren't for the show she'd be out there searching, too. "Spencer doesn't know the scripts and he's not home yet, anyway. And the show starts in like twenty minutes…"

"Fifteen," Freddie corrected automatically. Not that he'd been obsessively checking his watch since Sam left or anything…

Brad's internal debate was interrupted by a sharp knock and then the opening of the door. He smiled hesitantly at his girlfriend as she let herself in.

"Sam!" Carly quickly approached her, relieved that she'd come back.

Sam held her hands out in front of her. "Carly, I love you but you need to not touch me right now." She was clinging to her composure by the barest of threads and if the brunette hugged her it just might snap. Whether she'd end up crying or killing someone she wasn't sure but she wasn't fond of either possibility.

Carly pouted a bit but didn't move any further towards her. "You came back…" And of her own volition…

"You know me," Sam forced a smile, "the consummate professional." Actually she'd already pulled into her driveway when she realized that the online speculation would be a million times worse if she missed the show; if she had any hope of undoing the damage Freddie had done it wouldn't be with her face in a pillow.

Freddie stood, hoping to clear the air before the show. "Sam…"

"Ah!" she cut him off with a 'talk to the hand' gesture. "You don't get to speak to me." Turning to Brad she promised, "You – if you ever talk to him _about_ me again you're _done_."

Brad wasn't sure if she was threatening to end their relationship or his life but wouldn't dare ask for clarification. For the first time he was actually scared of her, her tone icy and her eyes glinting dangerously.

"You…" Sam pointed to Carly. There was so much she wanted to say – things she'd been repressing for years – but knew she never would. "We have a show to do." _Business as usual._

"I'm home!" Spencer announced, bouncing into the apartment and nearly running into Sam. When he saw the assembled teens he chuckled, "I swear you guys are multiplying…"

The others murmured half-hearted and/or awkward hellos.

Noticing the somber mood Spencer tilted his head. "Why do I get the feeling I just walked in on something?"

"Sam and Freddie are having a disagreement," Carly unhappily provided.

Well, _that_ was a gross understatement. "You didn't tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Spencer asked Freddie with a pout. No one told him _anything_ anymore; oh, how he missed the days when they were young and naïve enough to actually value his opinion…

"No time," Sam quickly interjected, "You can tell him later." Preferably once she was long gone.

"Right – the show," Spencer nodded. "We'll load the car up after, then?"

Sam gave him a half smile. "Thanks, Spence."

"Load the car with what?" Freddie asked, curious enough to risk incurring the blonde's wrath.

"Explosives," she returned automatically and without a trace of teasing. "Your car, not mine."

Giving her a questioning side-eye Spencer corrected, "Camping gear." That was some disagreement, whatever it was about.

Carly's eyes widened. "You're going camping? Why?" Sam wasn't as opposed to it as she was (if it didn't have running water she wasn't interested) but still…

"'Cause I'm less likely to get arrested out in the middle of nowhere." And she needed to get as far away from _him_ as possible. Turning to her boyfriend Sam informed him, "And you're coming with. We leave as soon as school lets out tomorrow so Nancy'll have to find someone else to medicate her corns." She would leave after the show but knew Brad wouldn't cut the day. That's what she got for dating a Club Scout…

Brad looked around the room, embarrassed, but no one was paying him any attention. _Big surprise._

Freddie gaped at Spencer. "You're helping her go camping with her boyfriend? Do you know _why_ teenagers go camping?"

"Well, yeah…" Spencer thought back to his own misspent youth and grinned. It definitely wasn't for the S'mores… His grin faltered when he realized what the boy was getting at. _Oops_. "Uh… I trust Sam's judgment?"

In unison the girls pointed out, "You really shouldn't…" Sam shot Carly an offended glare.

"She doesn't make good decisions!" She'd said so herself…

"Stay out of it, Freddie," Sam warned. He needed to learn to quit while he wasn't dead.

Carly put a hand on Sam's arm. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea…" Especially not _now_, with all the fighting.

They _really_ weren't getting that it was a bad time to push her. "Maybe it's none of your business," Sam suggested tightly, removing her hand.

Brad was pretty sure it _was_ his business but kept quiet anyway; she probably didn't want to hear his opinion, either. He wondered if she even remembered he was there…

Spencer looked between them. "I think we need to talk about this, Sam." Obviously there was something going on that he didn't understand.

"You already agreed," Sam reminded him. "No takesies-backsies." Besides, if he refused she'd just go to someone else. Or knock over a Mall-Mart.

Freddie knew without a doubt Spencer would fold like a cheap house of cards. Taking hold of Sam's elbow he dragged her into the kitchen and lowered his voice so the others wouldn't overhear. "Look, I get that you're mad at me, okay? But don't do this…"

"Do what?" Sam growled, throwing his hand off her before she could give in to the urge to break it. "Go away for the weekend with my _boyfriend_?"

The boyfriend she'd been dating all of two weeks and had only kissed for the first time out of spite? _Yeah_. Freddie didn't even want to think about what she might do _now_, either to punish him or prove something to herself. "Don't do something you're gonna regret..."

Sam raised a dangerous eyebrow. Who was he to say what she'd regret? Who was he to say _anything_?

_Fine._ Freddie held his hands up in surrender, eyes pleading, "Please don't do something _I'll_ regret, okay?" It would kill him and she knew it.

Leaning in close Sam hissed through gritted teeth, "_Your _regrets are not my problem." How dare he play the victim when he was making her life a living hell?

Spencer finally caught on and his gaze drifted to Brad who looked crazy uncomfortable. _Poor guy._ He really wanted the whole story but thought now would probably be a bad time to ask for the deets…

"Look at that!" Carly coughed loudly into the reigning silence. "Time to do the show!" She could talk some sense into Sam once things had cooled down.

Sam may have been on the brink of a nervous breakdown but she wasn't about to give Freddie the satisfaction of knowing it, holding his gaze until he lowered his eyes in defeat. Without another word she spun on her heel and made her way up the stairs.

Brad glanced awkwardly around the room before quickly following her.

"I'm going home," Freddie muttered as soon as the couple had disappeared.

Carly saw the unshed tears in his eyes and felt her own well up. "Aw, _Freddie_…" Even with everything he'd done she didn't know how Sam could be so cold.

"Stay and talk to me, Fredman," Spencer tried, taking hold of Freddie's sleeve as he walked by him to the door.

Freddie shook his head and pulled away. "Not now, okay? I'll see you guys later." Before they could argue he was in the hall and into his own apartment with no clue what to do next. Besides be a complete sucker for punishment... Grabbing his laptop he went out to the fire escape, falling into the lawn chair where the computer sat in his lap, unopened, for what felt like forever. He didn't know that he could handle watching the show, see Sam smile at Brad in his place, but he couldn't _not _watch, either. The first thing he noticed when the website loaded was that the poll was gone. He wasn't surprised – he'd known Sam would take it down (or have Brad do it) – but he figured for all the damage it had done there should have at least been some remnant of it. Heaving a depressed sigh he logged on to the live feed just as the _iCarly _logo flashed across the screen. Carly looked like she was having a hard time holding a smile, and Sam, well… Sam looked the same as she always did, like she didn't have a care in the world. If the invisible ninja thing didn't work out for her at least she'd have a career in acting to fall back on…

"_Um…Freddie's not feeling well tonight so Brad's gonna fill in for him."_

"_Don't worry – he's going to be fine – he was just dropped on his head during cheerleading practice yesterday so he's a little more brain-damaged than usual."_

The angry look Carly shot Sam onscreen told Freddie she hadn't been warned about the little attempt at damage control. He on the other hand had expected it. Didn't stop it from hurting, though. Especially when Sam held out her hands and tilted her head with a teasing smile.

"_How do I know, you ask? Well, this morning I couldn't figure out what I wanted my mom to make for dinner so I told him to poll you guys on my two favorite noodles. Which he somehow heard as favorite nubs…"_

She put her hand beside her mouth as though she was about to tell a secret and Freddie cringed in anticipation of what she was going to say next.

"_Much better nubs out there to pick from, by the way. Don't know where he got the idea they were my favorites…"_

She winked coyly at the camera (at Brad) and the only thing that kept Freddie watching was some masochistic need to hear how her story ended.

"_Anyway… even though Freddie screwed up, **again**, I didn't want all your enthusiastic clicking going to waste so I did a little creative association. 'Cause Brad is tall and thin he became spaghetti, and Freddie became bow-tie pasta 'cause, well, he's the kind of nerd who wears a bow-tie."_

She'd managed to completely ruin spaghetti for him _and _make him look like an absolute idiot at the same time; her talent for tearing him down was rivaled only by her talent for persuasion. Freddie had no doubt the viewers were swallowing it hook, line, and sinker. If there _were_ lying competitions forget third – she'd win hands down.

"_Long story a little less long, in honor of you guys I ended up having bow-tie pasta in a really yummy meat sauce. Probably would've been better with spaghetti but my taste buds thank you for voting all the same…"_

Sometimes he wished he didn't speak _Sam,_ hearing the 'Brad is better than Freddie' loud and clear. And she wasn't even done yet, pursing her lips and putting her hands on her hips authoritatively. She even looked like she was enjoying herself.

"_So what have we learned today, class? 1: Boys can easily be replaced by pasta, and B: If you want something done right, don't ask Freddie. Very important lessons, both…"_

Freddie closed his laptop violently, not even caring when it creaked in protest. His fault or not there was only so much he could take…

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><p><strong>Yes, it was an ugly <em>ugly<em> chapter, but I never claimed Sam wasn't a bitch, especially when hurting and on the defensive. It's when she's violent and a bitch for no apparent reason that I have a problem...**

**I promise there's cards finally _all _on the table (on both their parts) and a happy ending to come next weekend. I swear.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I want to thank everyone for their support for my stories and in light of me taking a break.**

**I just want to clarify, and this isn't directed at anyone, that I'm not having issues with iCarly because of Seddie. I'm not one of those people who will stop watching a show because they don't get their pairing. I am a character fan first (being Sam in iCarly, obviously) and while I have preferences when it comes to pairings my loyalty is _always_ with the character. Hell, I would take Creddie (lack of development aside) if it meant Sam was allowed to move on. My problem right now is that I _do _believe Seddie is end game and I don't see how they can do it in a way I would find believable. I thought it was ridiculously unrealistic that the Carly issue wasn't addressed when they dated (though I guess it's better otherwise Freddie would be looking like even more of a douche right now) but I let it go because there hadn't been any overt creepyness on Freddie's part since the foot rub thing in iDo. I don't think Sam should have (_would _have, given everything) just blindly trusted him then and I don't see how she can ever trust him again without the writers fundamentally changing her character to achieve the end result. In essence, the writers have ruined Seddie for me and I see them slowly ruining Sam for me too. I'd rather not watch at all than have that happen. Anyway, ****I just wanted to clear that up so no one assumes I'm a petulant shipper.**

**And on with the show... Seeing as I'm not continuing my Saturday updates I've decided to give you the rest of the story in one part (and because what was originally chapter 10 was mainly more angst and I think we all deserve a happy ending like _now_). So this is it guys: the final part to iSettle. I hope everyone has enjoyed the ride, bumpy as it was, and finds the culmination more satisfying than the show at the moment.**

**Just a reminder that this was written right after iOMG so some things may go against canon as established in later episodes.**

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><p>Freddie pressed himself up against his door to stare through the peephole into the hall. He hadn't seen Sam since the night of the show, what with her skipping classes the next day (word around school had been that she'd called in 'dead') then heading off into the woods with the boy wonder. He'd practically begged Carly to make up some emergency so the trip would have to be cut short (preferably so short nothing happened that couldn't be undone) but the most she'd agree to was to ask Sam to come over once she'd (<em>they'd<em>) gotten back to the city. Carly had just called to tell him Sam was on her way so there he was, waiting for her to show up and hoping to hell she didn't suddenly decide to start using the elevator in the apartment instead of the main one.

Before the show had even ended that night Freddie'd had the whole story typed out, ready to post and expose Sam for the lying liar she was. He'd been tempted, oh so tempted, but ultimately had decided against it. He knew that if there was a point of no return (and there _was_ – he'd just been lucky not to have stumbled across it so far) _that_ would be it. And he wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. He was nothing if not persistent, even in the face of overwhelming resistance, so he'd spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. All the pieces were there – he loved her and she loved him – they just weren't fitting together like they were supposed to. Finally he'd realized he was going about it backwards: Sam wasn't going to break up with Brad _until _he proved himself. Because in the grand scheme of things the interloping Brad piece was _nothing_ compared to the overshadowing Carly one…

Seeing the familiar blonde hair he opened the door and stepped into the hall. "Hey."

Sam's hand fell from the Shay's doorknob as she turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "And some things never change…"

Being obvious about his intentions was the least of Freddie's problems at the moment. "I was waiting for _you_, Sam."

"Doesn't make it less _stalkerish_, Freddie_._" Just because it was aimed at her didn't make it okay. "And why do I get the feeling this is a set-up?"

"Because it _is_." She must have been off her game – she actually seemed surprised.

And that explained why Carly had told her the direct elevator wasn't working. "I'm tired, Freddie," she told him quietly. "I don't have the energy for this." Or the mental acuity, it seemed.

"Why? 'Cause of all the fun you had this weekend?" He hadn't planned on bringing it up, didn't really _want_ to know, but the accusation had left his mouth before he could think better of it.

It was none of his business – what she had or hadn't done – and she didn't want to talk about it anyway. "You don't really want me to answer that…" She wouldn't even have asked, if their positions had been reversed.

Freddie swallowed hard. What he _wanted_ was for her to tell him he was wrong; that it didn't mean what he thought it meant. Her non-answer left him feeling sick. "Never mind."

His tone was a curious mixture of denial and resignation, and contrary to popular belief Sam wasn't sadistic enough to want him to suffer needlessly. "Nothing happened, okay?" Well, stuff had happened, just not _the_ something he was afraid of.

The knot in Freddie's stomach loosened and he could breathe normally again. They could've gotten past it – it wouldn't have changed how he felt about her – but he was more than a little relieved that they wouldn't _have_ to.

_Alrighty then. _"I'm gonna go now."

Freddie shook himself out of his stupor in time to put himself between her and the exit. "Sam…" He reached out to her, and when she held out her arm to keep the distance (like he'd known she would) he brought his right hand out from behind his back and snapped the other handcuff on her wrist.

It took Sam a second to process the clicking sounds and the tightening of metal around her skin. "You know," she hissed, "if I had as little self-control as you constantly accuse me of having you'd be dead ten times over this week alone." And if she'd known this was going to be her reward for easing his fears she'd have let him keep his assumption… "Unlock me. _Now_."

"I need you to listen to me, Sam." This had better work; he was pretty sure he'd just found the shortcut passed the point of no return. Do not pass _Go, _do not collect $200.

"I _will_ go get the key, Freddie," she promised, advancing menacingly. "And I will _not_ be gentle." This was just the _perfect _ending to her weekend.

Backing away as far as their joined hands would allow he quickly told her, "I don't have it." Just in case she didn't believe him he turned his jeans pockets inside out.

Sam took a breath to calm herself. It didn't work, her words coming out as a growl through clenched teeth. "Where is it?"

Freddie shrugged innocently.

She would kill him but she wouldn't have much of an alibi, attached to his body. "Carly! Carly Shay, get your traitorous butt out here _right now!_"

Carly poked her head into the hallway. "Um… hi?" She would ask if the blonde had a good trip but they were probably past pleasantries…

Sam held their cuffed hands up wordlessly, the other on her hip.

_Uh-oh. _Eyes wide Carly gasped, "You said you just wanted to talk to her!"

"Does she _look_ like she's in the mood to talk?" Freddie pointed out defensively. "I needed insurance."

"You're going to be needing _life_ insurance when I'm done with you…" Especially now that she knew Carly didn't have the key, either…

Carly's gaze flitted between them nervously. "I want no part of this."

"Coward." Once the turncoat had disappeared into her apartment Sam dragged Freddie into his.

_So far so good. _Until she started tearing the place up, anyway. "The key isn't here, either, Sam."

Tossing the couch cushions on the floor Sam rounded on him. "If you swallowed it I will filet you…" She knew where Marissa hid the sharp knives…

He hadn't even considered that but _ew._ "I gave it to my mom before she left for work." Good thing, too; the way Sam was going he probably would have caved by now.

"Road trip, then," Sam huffed, "If you're lying to me at least you'll already be at a hospital."

He showed her their hands, his right attached to her left. "I would have to drive and it's not happening."

Well, she _could_ drive but his hand would have to be in her lap and that option wasn't any better. "Then I'll just call and tell her if she doesn't come home now her precious son will be missing a hand when she _does_."

Freddie wasn't worried – she hadn't _really_ hurt him in years. Well, months anyway… "Your threats are starting to ring hollow, Sam. I know you're not gonna…"

Sam hauled back and punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could. It wasn't her left but it was still satisfying. _So_ satisfying, in fact, that she had to refrain from hitting him again.

_Ow._ Okay, maybe calling her out on it hadn't been his best idea… "Feel better?" he asked, rubbing his throbbing arm.

_Seriously? _He was gonna patronize her right now _besides_? Making sure to put every ounce of strength behind it (which sadly wasn't very much) she punched him again in the same spot.

When Freddie had come up with this brilliant plan he'd been concentrating on her not being able to get away; he hadn't really realized _he _wouldn't be able to get away, either… Now he had a numb arm and possibly broken fingers to show for his lack of forethought.

He was trying to act like it didn't hurt, his hand twitching subtly, and Sam's satisfaction turned to (unwanted) guilt. "What's the plan here, Freddie?" she sighed. "Hold me hostage until I give in to your demands just to get away from you?"

"I'm not making demands, Sam." The defeat in her voice was echoed in his. "I'll let you go once I know you believe me."

Sam shook her head. "It doesn't matter…"

"Yes, it does," he interrupted smoothly. "We both know that's the real issue here."

She'd never said it wasn't. "If you'd let me finish my sentence I was going to say it doesn't matter because I'm not _going _to believe you."

"So that's it, then?" He went to pick up the couch cushions, more for a distraction than for the sake of tidiness. "No matter what I say you're not going to listen?"

Too exhausted to struggle she followed behind him. "I don't _need_ to listen; nothing you say is going to convince me you suddenly have feelings for me."

Frustrated, Freddie tossed the cushions onto the couch. "It's not 'suddenly,' Sam. If you'd just…"

"Please!" she snapped, losing what little patience she'd had left. "You couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it so spare me your revisionist history!"

Her tone put him on the defensive. "It's the _truth_, Sam!" God forbid she believe a word he said. Paranoia must have been a side effect of being a compulsive liar…

"_Really_? All the times you hit Carly over the head with how much you loved her?" Eyes narrowed she spat, "And you expect me to believe you had feelings for me and just never said anything?"

"Carly's easier to love than you are!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and Freddie instantly wished he could take them back. "_Sam_…"

Sam blinked back the tears and dragged him to the kitchen, more determined than ever to get the hell out of Dodge. She rifled through the drawers until she found the mallet then pulled his hand onto the counter.

It took him a (terrifying) second to realize she was going to pound the handcuffs and not him. "Sam, that didn't come out right…"

_There's a right way to say that?_ When he moved to stop her she growled, "Now would be a _really _bad time to get in my way, Freddie." It wasn't an idle threat – if she didn't manage to break the cuffs she was going to have to seriously consider taking his hand off.

"See?" he huffed, sticking his free hand in his pocket lest she get any ideas. "At least I didn't have to worry about her killing me if I said the wrong thing…" He knew he should probably be groveling but she made it so _hard_.

Sam halted mid-swing to give him an incredulous glare. "You're blaming this on me? _Nice_." She followed through with a bang, putting all the anger and hurt into it.

"I'm not…" He cringed every time the mallet hit the metal, certain she was imagining it was him instead. "I'm trying to explain why you're not the safest person to have feelings for. You broke Gibby's thumb for God's sake!"

"You must think I'm some kind of gullible idiot!" It came out as a grunt, the exertion starting to get to her. And there wasn't even a dent in the cuffs. "I _assaulted _you, remember? That's not the reaction of someone who's just waiting for the go-ahead."

The hurt was back in her voice so Freddie softened his. "No – that's the reaction of someone who never let himself think there could be more. I didn't _know, _Sam…"

So now he was _admitting_ it was new? Sam didn't think he _knew_ anything. "This isn't about me, Freddie. This is about you thinking you finally have a willing target for your pathetic little obsession." Waving the mallet at him she hissed, "Well, I'm not into pedestals and perfection so you're all out of luck!"

"What are you into, then? 'Cause we both know it's not kindness and caring." She raised a dangerous eyebrow, the mallet still pointed at him, and Freddie had to force himself to continue. "Ever since we met you've abused me verbally, physically, mentally, emotionally. You _just_ told the whole world I'm an incompetent brain-damaged cheerleader! If that's your idea of love then it's no wonder I was so confused!"

"_Don't_!" Sam swallowed the lump in her throat, glaring at him through wet eyes. "I have spent the last five years captive audience to the Freddie loves Carly show so _don't you dare_ tell me how I'm supposed to act!"

Freddie regretted bringing it up, hated the pain it was causing her. "Sam…"

Dropping the mallet dangerously close to his hand she pointed at him scornfully. "You want to deal with your little unrequited love drama by throwing yourself at her feet, agreeing with everything she says like a mindless chimp and just generally making a fool out of yourself? Good. _Great_. That's your choice. But that's not me and I'm not gonna apologize for it!"

He didn't know how she managed to completely emasculate him and _still_ make him feel guilty but there they were. "That's not fair, Sam. We were kids – you know I'm not like that anymore."

"Well, congrats on finally learning the meaning of self-respect… So how do I know you aren't just secretly pining?" It was a rhetorical question – apparently he'd skipped the self-awareness aisle when he'd been shopping for the self-respect.

Her expression told him she didn't really expect an answer (not one that she'd believe, anyway) which confused him. "Sam, I told you…"

"No, you didn't," she cut him off harshly. "I told you _exactly_ what this was about and not _once_ did you say 'I don't love Carly.'" 'I don't wish you were someone else' and 'That's not what this is about' were hardly adequate substitutes. Though he seemed to think they were.

_Seriously?_ "That's what this is about?" If he'd known it was that easy it would have been the first thing out of his mouth.

That he was surprised didn't even surprise her. It just cut her deeply. "It's four words, Freddie; that you didn't even think to say them tells me everything I need to know." Even more that he hadn't argued when she'd said she was a consolation prize.

"I'm not in love with Carly anymore, Sam!" He wasn't sure he'd ever really been _in _love with her in the first place but he couldn't say he didn't love her at all – she was one of his best friends.

"_Yeah_," Sam barked bitterly, feeling her eyes well up again. "That didn't help." It might have been because she'd had to lead him to it or it might have been the way he'd chosen to say it. Just another reminder that he was 'in love' with Carly first…

Freddie had no idea what had just happened; he'd given her exactly what she'd asked for and she was looking at him like he'd told her she revolted him… "Okay, now you're just being unreasonable…"

She preferred to think of it as protecting herself but po-tay-to, po-_tah_-to. "Then give up. Do what I've been asking you to and let it go." She couldn't get over it until he did.

He was _this _close to giving in, to tapping out and calling for mercy as he had so many times in the past… "No." If she wouldn't fight for them then he'd have to…

Sam blinked at him. "What do you mean 'no'?" She'd seen the resignation in his eyes and thought for sure that was it; hated that she was more relieved than frustrated that it wasn't.

"_No_," Freddie repeated firmly. "If I give in you'll think you're right and you're not." Seizing the opportunity her temporary shock presented he drew her into him. "I love you, Sam. How do I prove it?"

For a split-second she considered that she _was_ being unreasonable – that it wasn't fair to blame him for something that couldn't be changed – but reasonable or not she couldn't help the way she felt. "You can't, Freddie."

She'd leaned into him, just barely, before pulling away. _Damn it. _"Sam, you can't walk away from me…" Literally. "Just tell me…"

The pleading tone broke her composure. "I don't _know _how, okay?" Hindered by their linked hands she started yanking like the cuff was an anchor weighing her down. Like she'd drown if she didn't get it off… "Do you think I _want_ to feel like no matter what I'll always be second? Don't you think I'd change it if I _could_?"

"Sam…" He tried to grab her hand, afraid that in her manic attempt to get free she'd tear it open. Or dislocate her thumb again; he didn't think he was as bad as the cops but at the moment she probably had a different opinion…

Hating how pathetic she sounded (felt) she warned, "And it's not all about you so don't go getting a big head about it!"

No fear of that – she'd never been one to inflate his ego but watching her freak out was destroying it completely. Making a show of it he shook his wrist and yelped, "_Ow_!"

Sam quit struggling and narrowed her eyes at him scornfully. "You're such a big baby…" She hadn't even been pulling on the cuffs, just her own hand.

Seeing as it had actually (astonishingly) worked he wouldn't get too upset about the blow to his masculinity. "I know it's not all about me…" Holding her gaze he brought her captured hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the chafed skin on the inside of her wrist. "But for me this _is_ all about you, okay?"

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, couldn't even bring herself to reclaim the hand he was holding hostage against his cheek. And she couldn't think of anything to say, besides.

That she hadn't denied it, or argued, was a good sign. As was the fact that she hadn't pulled away. "You know what I did while you were off in the woods pretending I don't exist?"

Twitching her wrist so the chain jangled in his ear Sam wryly guessed, "Restocked your collection of fetish gear?" _Well hello, snark; nice to see you haven't __**completely**__ deserted me…_

_Smartass. _"Actually, these are the ones you stole from that cop in Japan…"

"Freddie!" There _was_ no key for that set – dude's pants had been so tight he'd most definitely have noticed her fishing in them. Also, _ew._

Freddie's valiant effort to keep a straight face was ruined by the panic on hers. _Mama got owned._

His crooked grin told Sam it was payback for her remark, and she used his confiscation of her hand against him, whacking him upside the head. "That's not funny!"

Yeah, it kinda was; he was smart enough not to disagree, though. Leaning back against the counter he lowered their hands and used his other arm to pull her into him, getting serious again. "I spent the weekend trying to figure out _when_ it happened. I wanted to be able to say, 'That. _That's_ when I fell in love with you.' But I couldn't."

Sam cocked an unhappy eyebrow. "This story better have an _amazing _ending 'cause so far it sucks…"

"_Sam_…" She had so little faith in him, though Freddie supposed that was exactly their problem. Fairly certain she would stay he removed his arm from her waist to cup her chin. "I couldn't because there's no _one_ thing. I don't know when it happened but it did. And it's not 'suddenly.'" She opened her mouth, probably to contradict him, and he quickly moved his hand over it. "Shut up for a minute."

She was surprised (and a little impressed) by the assertiveness but that didn't stop her from licking his palm in retaliation.

Freddie rolled his eyes but continued undeterred. "I _know_ because when I was trying to figure it out I realized that no matter how far back I went in my memories _you_ are usually front and center. Whether I loved you or hated you – usually both, by the way; you're just _that_ inspiring…" Her lips started twitching against his skin and he could tell she was fighting a smile. Wanting to see it (_needing _to see it _- _God, he couldn't even remember the last time she'd genuinely smiled at him) he moved the hand to brush back her hair. "I was always drawn to you, Sam. You may think I don't know you but you're wrong. And I didn't get to know you as well as I do by never paying attention to you."

Sam's smile faltered then fell altogether. That just went to show you how people could remember things completely differently; _her _memories involved being ignored, overruled, undervalued, all because she _wasn't _Carly. And if she couldn't trust his memory then she couldn't trust him. "I can't do this."

"Huh?" She pulled away, and for the second time that day (and the nth time in the last couple of weeks) Freddie had no clue what was happening. No clue what he'd said to make her shut down so thoroughly. "Is it because of Brad?"

Of course he'd assume it had something to do with Brad. She hadn't wanted to talk about it – didn't even want to _think_ about it – but she wasn't about to let him blame Brad for their issues. "I broke up with Brad."

Okay, now he was _really_ confused. "You did? Why?" If it wasn't to be with him…

Sam leaned back against the island, their arms extended between them, and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Spencer convinced me it was the right thing to do." And it had hurt like hell; there was a reason she didn't do 'the right thing' often.

Freddie blinked at her. "Spencer _Shay_?"

Poor Spencer – no one thought he was capable of anything. Not that they were wrong… "Not intentionally. While we were loading the car he told me a story about this ex-girlfriend who had a cobra she had to feed live mice to…"

"So?" If there was a connection Freddie couldn't see it. Unless she'd decided a pet snake was less trouble than a boyfriend…

It'd had nothing to do with what was going on – she figured Spencer had just been uncomfortable with the situation and needed something else to talk about – but her brain had (traitorously) drawn its own parallels. "It made me realize I was putting Brad in the same position I refused to be in." Her whole day Friday had been spent debating whether or not having feelings for him made the hypocrisy okay. She'd wanted to believe it did, more than anything, but if she didn't think _she_ deserved being a consolation prize then Brad sure as hell didn't. He deserved so much more. And she'd had to accept that she couldn't give it to him.

There was a glossy sheen to her eyes and Freddie knew doing it had hurt her infinitely more than she was letting on. She truly did look exhausted, painfully so, and it explained why she was more unhinged than usual. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"_Save it_." She'd done what he'd been pushing her to do – ended possibly (undoubtedly) the best relationship she'd ever had – and he expected her to believe he was _sorry_? The only thing he was _sorry_ about was that it hadn't cleared the way for him like he'd imagined it would.

Freddie couldn't say he was sorry about the break-up but he wasn't heartless; she'd obviously been hiding out licking her wounds all weekend and he'd accused her of being off having 'fun.' "I'm sorry for _this_," he clarified, gesturing to their joined limbs. "I wouldn't have if I'd known." It was sad how many of their problems could have been avoided if she'd just communicate instead of being so damn guarded…

Sam waved a dismissive hand, choking back a sob. If anyone was _sorry – _utterly heart-brokenly can-barely-breathe _sorry _– it was her. She never should have involved Brad in the chaos that was her life to begin with. She really _was_ her own worst enemy, and he'd gotten caught in the crossfire.

She'd wrapped her arms around herself, inadvertently drawing him to her, and Freddie went the extra step and enveloped her in the one he had left. Surprisingly she didn't fight. It wasn't long before he felt her trembling against his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tears filling his own eyes at the growing dampness of his shirt.

When she finally managed to stop crying Sam was more exhausted than when she'd arrived (which she hadn't thought possible), and though she was sorely tempted to stay there in his arms (arm), nothing had changed. Straightening, she wiped a sleeve across her face and muttered, "That didn't happen."

Knowing better than to argue, especially since she hadn't pushed him away, he feigned cluelessness. "What didn't?"

_Smart boy._ "You should change your shirt," she advised, patting a dry spot.

He couldn't even if he'd wanted to and she knew that; she was just trying to distract him from what they'd been talking about. If it wasn't about Brad then he needed to know _why_ she couldn't do 'this.' "What is it, then?"

"Uh…" Sam made a show of examining the cloth. "Some salty substance, drool, and maybe a bit of snot."

Questionably charming wit aside that wasn't what he'd meant. "Don't play dumb, Sam – it doesn't suit you."

She could keep avoiding the issue, ask him what _did_ suit her, but he'd probably say 'me' and she'd have to say 'hardly' and then he'd say her name in that annoying exasperated tone he used whenever he thought she was being purposefully difficult (side note: she usually _was_) and she'd end up giving in anyway. "I can't trust you on this, Freddie. It's too big."

"_Sam_…" God, she was stubborn. Running a frustrated hand through his hair he used the other to drag her to his room. "Come with me."

And she got the tone anyway. _Joy. _"What? You want to show me the rest of your 'collection'?" He may have been able to overpower her for once but he still couldn't control her snark.

"Yes, but not that one." Freddie had finally remembered _why_ he'd wanted her at his apartment in the first place, and if this didn't work he was _definitely_ all out of ideas. "And those are the same cuffs, by the way."

"Huh? How?" The last time she'd seen them they'd been running out the Shay's door attached to a Gibby.

"I got them back; I wanted a souvenir from the one time I managed to prank you." That had been his story, anyway; he hadn't asked for them back until _after _all the other stuff had happened, at which point Gibby had initially refused on the grounds that he deserved some evidence of his prisoner of war status. Freddie hadn't believed him, and he didn't think Gibby had believed _him_ either, but they'd been nice enough not to call each other out on it.

Sam refrained from asking how long Gibby had had them for; she'd just pretend they'd been thoroughly sanitized instead. "Then what?"

Freddie picked up the pack of papers from his dresser and showed them to her. "I told you I still had your last birthday card. I didn't tell you I kept everything."

She eyed the perfectly neat bundle (tied with a modem cable and not some dainty ribbon, thank God) and lifted an eyebrow. Every time some special occasion came around she had an internal debate, _to give or not to give, _that _was_ the question_._ Usually she went with _not, _not only because it was less likely to give her away but because it was expected, really. "Those aren't all mine."

"Well, no," he admitted. "But considering all of yours are about hating me and/or wishing me ill I think keeping them at all says something." There was _one_ that was free of malevolence but she'd been on Oxycodone at the time (the dislocated thumb – his mom had finally taken her to a doctor friend after a week of watching her suffer) and sworn it was in no way a reflection of how she truly felt about him.

"It says something, alright: that you're a hoarder with a lack of standards…" The couple of times she'd actually given him something she'd made sure he thought it was out of obligation and not, you know, 'cause she'd wanted to. Except for the one she'd written on pain meds; just more proof that her subconscious really _was_ out to get her. You'd think she'd have learnt her lesson after the dentist… But he wasn't making the point he thought he was making – she knew who most (if not all) of the rest of them came from.

Freddie knew exactly what was going through her head. "I'm not done." Though the rest wouldn't really change her mind on the 'hoarding' thing. Walking over to the bed he pulled the Tupperware storage container out from under it.

Sam watched curiously as he tossed it onto the mattress and pulled off the lid, holding it so she couldn't see the contents. "What's that?"

"_This_ is the whistle you gave me to use when we were getting Franklin his job back," he showed her then dropped it on the bedspread. "And this is your oh-so-affectionate depiction of me being eaten by a tiger…" The drawing joined the whistle.

Before he could continue she disdainfully interrupted, "You keep a box of mementos?" A Tupperware container, besides. How 'his mother' of him…

In all honesty the box was a new development; he'd cleaned out his room over the weekend for a distraction and been surprised at how much stuff he'd kept without even realizing. "Is that wrong?"

"Depends…" she allowed before adding mockingly, "Are you a thirteen-year-old girl?" It was actually kinda sweet – and not entirely out-of-character for him, nub that he was – but she wasn't going to let _him_ know that.

Freddie heaved a ginormous sigh. "I'm trying to show you it's not 'suddenly,' Sam. Think you can let me finish before you call me a sentimental loser?"

_Aw._ His lips had formed a pout and Sam had to force herself to refocus. "Fine – as long as you know I _will _be calling you a sentimental loser." She sat next to the container and snickered when he lifted a disco ball from it. "You really are a thirteen-year-old girl…"

"It's yours, Smarty," he informed her, tossing it into her lap. "From our locker. After Franklin let me go I went back to see if anything had survived." They'd had expensive electronics in there and he'd hoped they'd made it out alive. They hadn't. "I guess I never got around to giving it back."

Sam toyed with the small mirrored Styrofoam ball, making the light catch and reflect. For some reason it made her eyes sting. "Thanks…" It was all she could think to say.

Freddie felt like he was (finally) making some progress. It wasn't the first time, though, so he proceeded with caution, holding out the prank pen wordlessly.

"You kept the pen I shocked you with?" And he said _she_ had issues…

"I figured I'd get you back eventually." His excuse for _not_ doing it was that she'd probably enjoy it. "I was more shocked about the crush on Spencer thing, anyway," he told her, eyebrow cocked.

Oh_, that._ She'd been worried her feelings were getting obvious (they'd _felt _obvious) and needed to throw her friends off if they were getting any ideas; they were so easy to manipulate. Feeling guilty (for _which_ shock she didn't know) she held her hand up to him. "Go ahead."

Freddie dropped the pen and turned her hand over to brush his lips against her palm. "Nah - I'm good." He wasn't sure her nervous system could take the jolt right then, anyway.

Sam swallowed the lump in her throat. If he wasn't in love with her he was doing a damn good impression of it. And she knew he wasn't that good an actor. "Freddie…"

"Ah…" he cut her off. "Not done." The look in her eyes told him he had her (mostly) but he wasn't going to leave the job half-finished. Gently placing her hand back on her leg he took the next item from the container.

Confused and offended by the brush-off Sam saw the jewel case and remarked dryly, "Let me guess – songs that remind you of me."

"_Wrong_." Freddie was taking his chances here – she wasn't exactly pleased with him anymore – but a little part of him was happy to be giving her a taste of her own medicine. "It's a _DVD_ of the pageant I missed because of that stupid double-date. I found it online." He never would have passed up the opportunity to see little Miss Non-Conformist in a beauty pageant had he known she was competing. To say watching it had been surreal would have been an understatement. "Fried chicken? Really?"

She couldn't tell if he was teasing her because it wasn't a 'pageant' answer or because he'd deduced what it really meant. "It's a weakness!" she defended ambiguously.

Of course her only weakness would be a type of food… Which brought him to the pig with the pouty snout. "Piggles, Jr. – you won him for me at the fair playing that bottle game."

"I didn't win him _for _you," Sam scoffed, taking the stuffy from him. "I won him and I gave him to you 'cause it was a sucky prize."

"You picked him out," he reminded her with a knowing smirk.

Sam hit him with it. "Only because I knew I was giving it away." And she may have wanted to remind him he was bacon… "And it wasn't just you – Carly got a dinosaur, remember? _Rawr!_" She made a clawing motion with her cuffed hand.

Laughing, Freddie pulled his puppeted hand from the container. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks…" Okay, so he was making a French poodle quote Shakespeare but he couldn't think of a fitting quote by Jean Racine. Not one he could repeat without mangling to the point she didn't understand, anyway…

"You're such a doofus," she informed him lightly, trying not to smile. "Where the heck did you find an 'Oompé?'"

"C'est _le_ Oompé." He made it yip in her face for authenticity, though his bark wasn't any more convincingly _français _than his accent.

Ignoring the bad impression (for all the French he'd taken he still wasn't very good) Sam raised impressed eyebrows. "You _stole _it?" Maybe there was hope for the boy yet.

Yeah, right – like he wouldn't have gloated about it if he had. "My mom found it when she was cleaning up backstage at the show; apparently Henri didn't take his loss too well…" It probably hadn't helped that he'd lost to _them_.

Sam didn't need to ask _why _his mom had been cleaning up; her neuroses were well-documented. "You couldn't have found a better souvenir from Japan than a _poop_-it?" It didn't really have anything to do with her specifically, except for having thrown it across the hotel lobby.

First she was making fun of him _for _keeping things and now he hadn't kept _enough_. Freddie couldn't win for losing... "Not everything that's happened had something tangible I could keep, Sam." Even though there were a few things left in the container he started putting everything back; she looked like she was having a hard time sitting up as it was. When she made no move to give up the pig he moved the bin to the floor without it. "Doesn't mean I don't remember it."

There weren't words strong enough to describe how much Sam hated that she was being irrational and insecure. Hated that he wasn't calling her out on it, just being all supportive and patiently persistent. Hated that he was pulling her to lie back on the bed and all she could do was put up a token resistance before giving in. "You're lucky I'm worn out…"

Freddie thought he deserved at least some credit for having worn her _down_ but didn't think he'd be getting it. They spent a few minutes finding a comfortable position (not easy, considering), finally settling with him on his back and her on her side with her head on his shoulder, their legs entwined. "Remember when we fell asleep watching reruns of Full House waiting for 'Wake up Spencer'? And my mom found us the next morning when she got home from work?"

"How could I forget?" Sam murmured against his skin. "Crazy yelled at me for a half hour for corrupting her innocent little angel then lectured us on responsible behavior." They'd only gotten off 'easy' because they'd been fully clothed and above the blankets. She didn't remember why she hadn't just walked out.

Brushing her hair away Freddie found her eyes closed and her face peaceful. "Yeah, but she made us breakfast while she did…"

Oh, yeah – _that's_ why she'd stayed. "Hmm."

"_And_ she didn't beat you with my underwear," he chuckled.

"Huh?" Sam's brow furrowed in (slightly disturbed) confusion. Was that the appropriate response per the Aggressive Parenting boards?

Apparently Carly hadn't shared _that_ part of the story. "Trust me – it's important." His mother had always seemed more accepting of Sam than Carly for some reason. Not that he thought Sam cared about having his mother's approval…

_Trust me._ Sam opened her eyes to stare at the wall, resisting the (futile) urge to flee. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation she bit the bullet and whispered, "_I'm scared_."

Already half-asleep Freddie wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. It wasn't until she hid her face in his neck that he realized he had. "Hey…" She tried to burrow deeper and he had to push her away.

Sam rose up onto her elbow but avoided his gaze in favor of the dolls (sorry, _action figures_) on the shelf.

Freddie knew what it had taken for her to admit it and wouldn't let her pretend she hadn't. Putting a hand under her chin he gently forced her to look at him. "I love you, okay? I didn't go through all this just to let you go."

Her eyes welled up. Again. God, she was tired of crying. And doubting. "I really hope you mean that."

"I really do," he promised, swiping his thumb over her cheek to clean it. "And I'm not stupid. I know you're gonna test me, and I know it's gonna take you a while to completely believe me." He cleared her other cheek then ran the thumb across her bottom lip. "Until you do I'll just have to…"

Sam cut him off with a tender kiss, holding her breath for the second it took him to respond. When he hugged her closer and his lips started to move against hers she exhaled slowly into his mouth, relieved.

"…keep working at proving it," he finished dazedly when she pulled away.

Dropping her head back onto his shoulder Sam trailed her fingers over his chest. "I love you, too." Quietly, she added, "And I'm sorry."

Freddie covered his surprise by pressing his lips into her hair. "What happened to 'I won't apologize'?"

What happened was she'd realized it was time she take responsibility for her own part in this whole mess, otherwise she wasn't sure she deserved _him_. Especially with how difficult she was being… Shrugging the best she could in her position she joked, "It's been a few years – I figure I owe you one anyway."

Despite the levity of the statement Freddie knew she meant it. Interlacing their fingers he smiled against her forehead. "Start fresh?"

Sam watched his thumb trace random patterns on her skin, feeling completely safe for the first time in forever. "Yeah – start fresh."

* * *

><p><strong>Cheesy enough for you guys? Does it make up for all the angst? Just a wee bit?<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed and are glad you stuck it out :)**

**I wish you all the best and hope to see you again when I finally get around to updating iWYTBMF. I apologize for the delay but am trying to find the motivation to finish writing the next chapter... Letting me know how you felt about this one might help ;)**


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